


Hot For Teacher

by Jaseraie



Series: Trowenhurst [1]
Category: All Time Low, Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Paramore
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arma Angelus Existed, Bands, Bandslash, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Chicago (City), Classroom Sex, Concerts, Fall Out Boy Lyrics, Inspired by Music, Iowa, It's Patrick Stump like you've always wanted him, M/M, Music, Musicians, Original Character(s), Professor Patrick Stump, Sexy Patrick Stump, Smut, Song Lyrics, Supernatural Elements, Trowenhurst, University, Worth It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:52:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 49,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaseraie/pseuds/Jaseraie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete Wentz gets more than he bargained for when he goes back to school. </p><p>--------------------</p><p>Disclaimer:</p><p>I do not know, nor own, Fall Out Boy or any of the members. I have not received any monetary compensation for this work. I do not know, nor own, any of the people mentioned within this story. It is purely a work of fiction, none of this has ever happened. All names, song titles, song lyrics, places, etc. belong to their prospective owners, I claim none as my own. Some lyrics have been altered to suit the story.</p><p>* title from a song by Van Halen of the same name*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pete Wentz didn't know what to expect when he entered DePaul University for the 1st time in almost 10 years. He'd had nice career in a semi-successful hardcore band, but they weren't gaining any momentum anymore and the group disbanded. Pete seized the opportunity to go back to school and get a degree in music. Now he was a 20-something guy walking into a Rock Composition class that was mostly full of whispering, giggling females. He hasn't expected that. He definitely hadn't expected the reason for all the giggling and whispering. Pete's heart jumped into his throat as soon as he saw the young, gorgeous man in a gray pinstripe shirt, ass-hugging slacks and matching tie, who was smiling brightly at the entire room. His short, strawberry blonde hair was sloppily spiked and his face was so clean-shaven that Pete swore he didn't grow facial hair. His skin looked as smooth as ivory and was the same pale color. He was the most gorgeous human being Pete had ever seen. 

The giggling and whispering, that had elevated in volume since Pete had arrived in class, abruptly stopped as soon as the professor cleared his throat. All eyes were now on him. "Well good morning everyone and welcome to Music 112: Rock Composition. This is an undergraduate course so I'll try to go a little easy on you. I am Professor Stump, but you can just call me Patrick if you prefer. I will be your instructor in the ways of Rock for the next few months. That means that, hopefully, we'll have a lot of fun, yeah?"

The whole class nodded.

"Awesome. Well, let's just get to it then, shall we? If you all will look on your desks you should see a syllabus that has an intricate, very detailed version of what I'm going to explain to you right now. Basically, we are going to transcribe various styles of classic rock and learn how to put them all into practice. I'll also be throwing in a bit of the historical perspectives of Rock music. Still with me? Have I lost anyone yet?" 

The room quietly muttered answers. Patrick smiled again and all the females swooned, maybe Pete did too. 

"Listen guys, I know it's early and most of you probably haven't had your Starbucks yet. I remember the crazy class schedule. I was still taking classes a couple years ago. So I feel your pain. Just bare with me for another 20 minutes or so and you guys can all leave class early today. Okay?"

"Okay," the girls said. The handful of guys nodded at Professor Stump. 

"Awesome," Patrick said with another smile and continued to go over the main points of the semester. Once he was done he walked over to the desk in the corner and leaned back against it. "Any questions?"

The room stayed silent. 

"Okay. Then I have one last thing to mention: this class will require you to attend a MINIMUM of two live shows around the Chicago area so that you can see the stuff you'll be learning in practice. However there are no class field trips and I expect papers on the use of rock at said shows. So keep that in mind, okay. Now you are free to go. I will see you all again on Monday." 

Pete deliberately took his time leaving the classroom, staring at Patrick the entire time. He'd had crushes on guys before, even a few relationships, but NOTHING had hit him like this sudden attraction to his new music teacher. Pete's knees almost buckled when Patrick smiled at him as Pete stepped out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Pete spent the next two days thinking about Patrick. He didn't understand why he was obsessing over someone he hadn't actually met. By the third day, he'd finally managed to push Patrick to a corner in the back of his mind. Unfortunately, he also had class with Professor Stump again. So he Putin his baggiest hoodie and tightest pants before he went to class. He flipped up his hood right before he walked into class, but he could still see that smile. 

"Alright everyone, please find a seat so we can get started. We've got quite a bit to cover."

Pete hurried to the back row and slunk down in his seat, trying his best to be ignored. 'I can't see him, so he can't see me, right,' Pete thought to himself.

Halfway through class Pete felt himself drifting off to sleep an heard a beautiful, enchanting voice humming. He moved around a little to try to identify where it was coming from. But he swore it seemed to be coming from inside his head. He also heard "takeyourhoodieofftakeyourhoodieofftakeyourhoodieofftakeyourhoodieofftakeyourhoodieofftakeyourhoodieoff" being repeated in a seductive tone. Pete felt his hands following the instructions, although he didn't know why. But as soon as he did, the humming stopped. He sat up straight and looked all around him. Everyone one in the room was staring at him, including a seemingly amused Professor Stump. 

"Did you have a nice map, Mr. Wentz? Are you fully caught up o your sleep now?" Patrick stared intently at Pete. Pete felt his cheeks start to blush. 

"Uh... sure. Did anyone else hear that humming?"

"Ah, so you heard it too?" Patrick asked followed by a responding round of giggles. "That was you Mr. Wentz. You were humming happily while you slept. Apparently you wanted to be the center of attention. Well, wish granted," Patrick said with a smirk. 

"It couldn't have been me. I know my voice, and it's not that pretty. This voice was so pretty and velvety smooth, it matched your face." 

The class gasped and Patrick's cheeks turned pink.

"Fuck, sorry. I..." Pete babbled. "Sorry. It won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't," Patrick said. "But I'd still appreciate it if you'd stay after class." Pete pouted as he nodded his agreement. He's at in silent alertness for the rest of the class, partially hoping to hear the humming again. 

Pete stayed seated while the rest of the class exited the room. He watched Patrick fidget with stuff on the desk for a few moments until the door was shut and the last sounds of students had gone away. 

Then the whole atmosphere changed. There was tension in the air. "So Mr. Wentz," Patrick finally started. "I am used to students falling asleep in my class from time-to-time. But I must say, having it done on the first real day of class is a new one to me."

Pete sputtered out an apology as Patrick walked up to him. Pete stared up at his gorgeous teacher, involuntarily licking his lips.

"Am I just not entertaining enough for you," Patrick asked as Pete felt the air around him shift again. Now he felt like he was in a fog and the words that his instructor was saying sounded like they were being spoken through glass. 

"Is there something special I should do to keep your interest? Help me out here, Pete." Patrick said. 

Pete felt his breathing quicken, his heart speed up, and his already tight pants getting tighter. "N... N... No. Nothing, sir."

Patrick squatted down next to Pete and ran his hand up Pete's back. "Are you sure about that," he whispered into Pete's ear. "I know many ways to keep your attention," Patrick purred as he slip his other hand across Pete's leg and onto the painfully confined bulge in Pete's pants. "Do you want a demonstration, Pete," Patrick asked in a hum, the same hum Pete had heard before. He turned his head around to Patrick. "So it was you!"


	3. Chapter 3

Pete woke up with a start, sweat dripping down his naked body, breathing heavily and hard as a rock. Great, he thought. Sex dreams about my teacher already, except no happy ending. It had felt so real though, he could still feel Patrick's hand creeping up his leg and grabbing his, "Oh God!" Pete laid back down, grabbed ahold of himself and jerked off to the images from his dream. It didn't take a lot, just a few strokes. But he felt completely drained afterwards.

This was a reoccurring dream for the next two months. The details always varied a bit, but the end result was always the same: jerking off then exhaustion. It was also becoming increasingly difficult to face Professor Stump three times a week. The occasional sex dream about someone made it difficult to face them. Having reoccurring sex dreams about the same person at least once a week made it damn near impossible, especially when you had to look at the object of your erection for several hours at a time. The only peace-of-mind Pete got from any of it was that whatever it was about Professor Stump that got Pete all hot and bothered seemed to be affecting everyone else too. The girls usually ended up panting by the end of class. He'd even seen one of the girls sneak to the very back of the room and finger herself while staring at Professor Stump.

When midterms hit, Pete was freaked out and stressed. He needed an outlet to let off some steam. He needed to have fun, and he knew how to do that and still be helping his grade. He called up a few of his friends then headed to Double Door.

Pete's friends were all waiting for him when he finally arrived. Joe, Andy, Gabe, Travie, Brendon, Chris, Bill, Mikey and Ashlee were all standing outside in a small circle. He waved at them as he walked up, trying to ward off Ashlee's advances. He liked her and all, but there were reasons they weren't together anymore. Although, he decided he may have to try to set up a friends-with-benefits arrangement with her if these dreams didn't stop soon.

He followed everyone inside. It was the perfect size crowd; not so few that the energy wasn't up, but not too many to be able to move around or mosh or whatever. He loved these size crowds. He didn't even care if the bands ended up sucking tonight. He headed straight to the bar with Ashlee in tow. He was trying to figure out if he really wanted to try being fuck buddies with Ash when the atmosphere in the bar shifted. It was now electric and sexual, just like Professor Stump's class always was. He looked around, but nothing seemed to have changed except now Ash was in his lap grinding on him.

"Not now, Ash. I just got here."

Ashlee pouted and started to say something, but stopped then got up and walked towards the stage, stopping in front of a guy that... No! It couldn't be.

Ashlee grabbed the guy's arm, turned him around, then started making out with him, at least trying to. From this new angle, Pete could see the man better. It was him, Professor Stump, Patrick. He wore more casual clothes than he did in class: skinny jeans and a blue polo shirt with a fedora on his head. He was here, dressed down, and half-making out with Pete's ex-girlfriend! Pete glared at the two of them. He couldn't tell which one of them he was really mad at. Then Patrick's eyes opened and his gaze fell to Pete. A little smirk crossed his lips as he started groping Ashlee and grinding into her. Then he whispered something into Ash's ear and she fainted. Patrick caught her and carried her to the bar and handed her to one of the bouncers like it was a normal happening.

Pete's entire body stiffened as Patrick moved toward him. "Fancy meeting you here," Patrick said into Pete's ear. "Come here often?"

Pete shrugged and tried to act nonchalant, although it probably didn't look the way he pictured in his head. "Whatever. I'm here for now. That's all that counts."

Patrick nodded. "Indeed. So I hear there's a totally rad band as the headliner tonight. You should stick around and check 'em out."

Pete shrugged again. "We'll see. Yo, Frank. Get me my usual please." The bartender gave Pete a thumbs up and went about making the drink.

"So you do come here often," Patrick said in a saccharin sweet tone.

Pete looked at Patrick and smiled. "Used to. Not so much anymore; not since Arma called it quits." 

"Wait," Patrick's eyes popped open. "Arma as in Angelus? No wonder you looked so familiar that first day in class. I used to go to Arma shows all the time. I was totally bummed when I heard you guys broke up. You guys are one of the main reasons I'm your teacher."

Pete laughed.

"Seriously, dude. You guys were such a rad band. I can't even explain it."

Frank sat a large glass filled to the brim with different colored alcohol in front of Pete and said, "on the house," as he headed to the next waiting customer.

Pete managed to finish his drink right before the opening band, Lambcart, hit the stage. The lights went up, the music pumped through the speakers and Professor Stump grabbed Pete's hand and dragged him into the crowd.

"I wanna dance or mosh or whatever with a dude from Arma if that' alright with you," Patrick yelled over the music. Pete's drink had left his inhibitions lowered and his friends were already lost in the crowd. So Pete nodded at Patrick and started moving his body to the rhythm of the music.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT
> 
> For the most part, this story will be rated mature. But this chapter is far beyond that. If you are uncomfortable with explicit sexual activity, please do not read this chapter.
> 
> Read at your own risk. 
> 
> Thank you.

Ten songs and two more drinks later Pete was behind Patrick, arms around his waist, grinding into him like it was a high school dance. Patrick was leaning into him, wiggling his ass into whatever part of Pete it was touching at the time. By the next song Pete and Patrick were nothing but hands and lips. Pete wasn't sure who had dragged who, but they ended up in a bathroom stall, Patrick on his knees sucking Pete off. Pete was thankful for loud music and bad acoustics because otherwise everyone would know what was going on in that stall, even though Patrick had locked the main bathroom door.

"Fuck, Patrick. I'm...Mmmm....I've dreamt about this so many times but I'm not sure if we should be...." Pete's protests were cut short by a familiar humming. I was quieter than usual, but Pete recognized it instantly. He also no longer felt the need to object to this potentially unethical situation. His eyes hooded over. He was in that weird, dreamy fog again, and now Patrick had Pete's cock all the way down his throat. Pete was in a euphoric state he hadn't known existed.

"cumformecumformecumformecumformecumformecumformecumforme" Pete heard the rhythmic chanting is the middle of the humming. Pete looked down at Patrick, who's mouth was still full, and knew it couldn't be Patrick saying it. Yet with one more skillful flick of Patrick's tongue, Pete screamed as he came hard; eyes rolling into the back of his head. No orgasm had ever felt that good. Pete collapsed onto the toilet and opened his eyes in time to see Patrick licking his lips clean.

"Holy shit," Pete said between gasps.

Patrick giggled right as a loud pounding sounded from the main door. "Goddammit Patrick! Get yer fuckin' ass out here! You're late!"

"Shit," Patrick hissed out in annoyance. "I gotta go... do a thing. Please don't leave. I'll meet you a little later, okay?"

Pete nodded at Patrick.

"Awesome. Oh, and once your knees solidify, you should go check out the headliners."

"Sure... Sure Patrick," Pete said as the fog started to lift from his brain.

Patrick grinned and kissed Pete's cheek before standing up. "Awesome. See ya soon." With that Patrick left the bathroom.

Pete stayed on the toilet a few more minutes so the fog could completely go away and his joints could reform, or whatever. Once he was better, he went out in search of his friends again, hoping he wouldn't have to explain his absence. As luck would have it, he found Gabe, Mikey, Bill, And Travie right as Frank was up introducing the headlining act. "And now the band you've all been waiting for: They are one of the most requested bands we have. Please welcome back to Double Door's stage, Trowenhurst!"

The crowd went into a screaming frenzie, the lights shut off completely and a hardcore guitar riff started. Then a voice oozing sex started to sing:

It's hot as hell in here  
Everybody wants to lose control  
The music's turned up loud, the lights  
We'll turn them low

Wound up like a hurricane  
And my head's about to explode  
Can't wait to self-destruct  
Can't wait to let it go

(whoa-oh) I hit the stage  
(whoa-oh) I make you crave  
So come and give me your honey  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh

The lights came up, illuminating the stage and a spotlight hit the singer - Patrick. Pete's eyes moved up his body. Extra-tight leather pants, black button-up shirt with the top three unbuttoned (showing off a bit of his chest hair), small black choker, black eyeliner, lip ring on the right side of his lower lip, and his strawberry blond hair, now streaked with red and black, spiked up in the middle. A wicked grin and bedroom eyes were staring back at Pete.

I can feel your fever, taking over  
Can you see your fever, taking over me?  
I can feel your fever, taking over  
Got a dirty feeling and you're the remedy  
Whoa, come on!

Pete couldn't come up with the words to describe what Patrick was on stage. He was definitely something to watch. Everything; every glance, every movement, every thrust, every note, every shake of his hips, seemed to be meticulously constructed to turn people on. Boy, was it working. Even Travie was getting excited by Patrick.

So I'm looking for a spark  
I've got a body to re-ignite

Patrick ran his hand down his chest and cupped his crotch, and now everyone was staring at the bulge in those pants. Pete's mouth started to water.

Don't worry, you won't get burned

Patrick pointed at a random blond girl in the audience and beckoned her forward with his finger.

So don't, don't put up a fight

Patrick grabbed the microphone and sat down on the edge of the stage in front of the girl, spreading his legs.

Push hard to the breaking point  
And I'm ready to overload

Patrick leaned back and put all of his weight on his free hand and began thrusting his hips up while staring at the blonde, who was now in between Patrick's legs, kissing up his thigh.

No limits and no regrets  
It's time to sell your soul

(whoa-oh) You're all I want

Patrick ran his fingers through the girl's hair, as she continued up his leg, and stared into Pete's eyes again.

(whoa-oh) You're all I need  
So come and take my honey (whoa-oh-oh-oh)

Pete felt the fog in his mind again. He was also more turned on than he'd ever been in his life. All he wanted to do was go up, push that little blonde slut away, pull Patrick's tight leather pants down and fuck his brains out in front of everyone here while Patrick continued to sing. Patrick grinned and nodded like he just heard all the horny details that were running through Pete's mind.

Come here you naughty thing  
You're such a tease  
You'd look so beautiful down on your knees  
Come here you naughty thing  
You're such a tease  
You'd look so beautiful down on your knees

Patrick pushed the girl to her knees. She squealed then fainted. The bouncer acting casual about Ash earlier now made perfect sense to Pete.

Patrick looked back and made a weird gesture at the band then hopped off the stage and made his way to Pete and started singing again:

Come here you naughty thing  
You're such a tease  
You'd look so beautiful down on your knees

Something came over Pete and he went down on his knees, pressing his lips to the large bulge in Patrick's pants. The whole crowd hooted and hollered and were salivating over this new scene. It was almost like an orgy, except only two people were doing anything besides watching.

Patrick wrapped his hand in Pete's hair and pulled until Pete's face was staring up at his.

I'll smear all that black eyeliner  
and rip off all your clothes

Patrick squatted down and ran his hand down Pete's chest, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled Pete into him. Patrick moved himself as close to Pete's body as he could then whispered:

You smell so fucking good  
It makes me lose control

Patrick licked and nipped Pete's collarbone before releasing him and standing up. He walked back to the stage, hopped up and finished the song. Pete stayed where he was for the rest of the show, sure that if he moved at all, or got another glance of Patrick, he'd cum in his pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics are a slightly altered version of 'Fever' by Bullet For My Valentine.
> 
> So if you want an idea of what Patrick is singing, go check out the song here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FykpqLXmmS4
> 
> I do not own the song or the band. I just used the song and tweaked it for my own perverted purposes. All rights and ownership belong to the band and any other persons they rightfully belong to.


	5. Chapter 5

After the crowd had mostly cleared out, Joe, Andy, Brendon, Bill, and Mikey went over to make sure Pete was ok.

“I’m fine guys. I just… Patrick.”

“Yea, dude. I think we all just… Patrick,” Joe replied.

“Yup,” said Mikey. “Where do you think Travie is? He’s in the bathroom dealing with… Just Patrick.”

“I’ve already dealt with my just Patrick twice,” Brendon said lazily. “I don’t know what it is about that man but DAMN! I’d love to give him something.”

“I’d be happy with what Pete did to him in the opening number,” Gabe slurred as he stumbled toward everyone. “As soon as he started singing I wanted to hump and fuck everything. Like, his voice is made of aphrodisiacs or something. I had to drink a lot to get that feeling to go away. But I still really wanna kiss Patrick’s cock.”

“His voice,” Travie said as he walked up to the group. “It is! His voice is sex.” Travie’s voice was hoarse and it kept breaking. “He made me feel like a teenage boy again, only if I’d been gay. When he… unf…” Travie ran back to the bathroom.

“Some people have no control,” Andy said matter-of-factly.

“Are you telling us you’re not even a little turned on by that sex God?” Bill asked with a glare. “Cuz I’m pretty sure you’re lying if you are.”

Andy shook his head. “Nah. That was probably the hottest thing I have ever seen. I mean, I’ve never been attracted to a guy before but something about Patrick made me want to do naughty things to him. However I’m not going to go yank one off in a bathroom stall either.”

Bill nuzzled into Gabe’s chest. “We need to go home Papi. NOW!”

“Couldn’t agree with you more, Muffin,” Gabe purred down at Bill. “You guys good? Pete, you need any help?”

Pete shook his head. “I’m good. Go home. Have fun. Thanks for meeting me here. I had fun… whatever.”

“Same. Adios Muchachos!” Gabe wrapped his arm around Bill’s shoulders and led him out the door.

“I think I’m gonna head out too,” Joe stated. “As long as Hurley’s ready to leave.”

Andy nodded.

“Cool. See ya ‘round, Wentz. Good luck in class.” Joe laughed.

Chris jogged over to the group. “Ash woke up and asked me to take her home. So we’re off too.”

“Yea, I need to get home to so I can do something about this just Patrick thing,” Brendon said. “Hey Mikey, you up for a romp?”

Mikey nodded. “Let’s go Bden, but only for tonight.”

Brendon grinned and whooped before grabbing Mikey’s hand and dragging him out the door.

Travie came out of the bathroom again and sat down next to Pete. “Where’d everyone go?”

“To go fuck,” said Pete.

“Cool. So do you want me to stay or…” Travie stopped when Patrick reemerged from backstage. “Dude, I’m sorry but I gotta go. I can’t…” Travie took one long glance over Patrick while licking his lips before he hopped up and ran out, leaving Pete on the floor. He was now the only person there besides Frank and Patrick.

“Hey,” Patrick said as he walked closer.

Pete still didn’t look up at Patrick, but he noticed from his feet and legs that Patrick was not in his stage clothes anymore. “Hey. That was awesome.”

“Thanks. Were you surprised?”

That made Pete look up. Patrick was smiling a smile that made him look like an imp. It was that face that said ‘I knew you’d look at me if I said that’.

“Dude I…”

“Yo, Wentz. I’m leaving. So unless you still have that key, you and Mr. Hypersexual need to leave.” Frank wasn’t trying to be mean. He was just tired and wanted to go home.

Patrick bit back a laugh.

“Yea, I’m going Frank. I don’t know about him though.”

“Are you hungry Pete,” Patrick asked. Pete saw it in Patrick’s eyes that food wasn’t the only thing Patrick was asking about.

“Famished,” Pete finally answered.

“I know a place about 10 minutes away. They have some of the best food in Chicago. Wanna go? My treat for having sexually harassed you.”

Pete smiled at Patrick’s hopeful tone. He really was hungry so… “Sure. Why the fuck not?”

Patrick helped Pete off the floor then linked his arm in Pete’s and they headed out to the parking lot. “I’ll drive us,” Patrick said, “since I know where we’re going. I’ll bring you back for your car once we’re done.”

Pete nodded and followed Patrick to his car, wondering the whole time what he’d just agreed to.


	6. Chapter 6

Pete and Patrick sat in a corner booth of Three Aces two hours past closing time. The staff had come over and asked them to leave a couple times, but Patrick charmed them into allowing the time extension with the stipulation that no new food would be brought out. By 4:30 a.m., Pete was completely enchanted with his professor. The more they talked, the more he realized they had so much in common. They spent 20 minutes having a conversation that was nothing but quotes from 80s movies. By 4:30 a.m., Pete was ready to jump across the table and ravaging his professor.

“Just do it then,” Patrick said, seduction in his voice.

“What?”

“Jump across the table and ravage me.”

“I didn’t say that out loud, did I?” Pete was confused. He’d sworn he hadn’t said it out loud. He thought back and didn’t remember his lips moving at all. He was about to question Patrick when he felt the fog roll into his brain again and an almost inaudible humming.

“ravishhimfuckhimmakehimscreamravishhimfuckhimmakehimscreamravishhimfuckhimmakehimscream“

Pete felt himself reacting again, and all his questions and self-control melted out of him. He grabbed Patrick’s wrist, led him into the men’s restroom and pushed him up against the wall with his lips. Patrick smiled into Pete’s mouth and ‘Mmm’ed in delight.

“Yes. Oh God yes!”

Pete nipped down Patrick’s neck and kissed his shoulder before turning Patrick around, letting his hands roam over Patrick’s back. Pete felt his desire for Patrick growing with each moment, each touch of his fingers along Patrick’s porcelain skin. He’d never felt anything this strong before. His mind was swirling. Soon Pete was taking his shirt off, then Patrick’s. He laid a trail of kisses down Patrick’s back. When his knees hit the ground, Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick’s waist, then unbuttoned and unzipped Patrick’s jeans before pushing them to the ground and spreading his legs.

Pete traced his fingers across Patrick’s length, his hip, and down his smooth ass cheek. Patrick’s breath hitched. “Yes. Please, Pete. I need this. I need you.”

Pete felt a gentle buzzing in his body as the humming got louder.

“Patrick I need…”

“Left, side pocket.”

Pete reached in and pulled out Patrick’s wallet and a bottle of lube.

“Inside the wallet, the little pocket. Please… hurry. Pete I… God, I need this. I don’t know how long I can go without this, without you. Please?”

Patrick’s voice was sounding less seductive and more whiney. But Pete thought it was hot that Patrick was begging. He reached in Patrick’s wallet, flipped open the little pocket and pulled out a condom. He grinned.

Pete poured some lube on his fingers. He ran his non-lubed hand over Patrick’s right ass cheek a few more times before he stuck a finger in Patrick’s ass. Patrick moaned. Pete wiggled his finger. Patrick moaned louder. Pete stuck in a second finger and wiggled it. Patrick mewled. Pete stuck in a third finger and wiggled it. Patrick threw his head back, yelling “Oh fuck, yes.”

Pete loved this feeling of turning his professor on so much. He wanted to continue to tease Patrick, but his own erection was already pressed painfully against his already too-tight skinny jeans. It was begging for it to happen. So he stood up, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then quickly opened the square, foil packet and rolled the condom on his self. He lined up with Patrick’s entrance; put a hand on the wall to steady himself, licked his lips and pushed into Patrick.

The feeling of being inside Patrick, mixed with the musical purrs leaving Patrick’s mouth, was almost more than Pete could take. He stood there until Patrick backed into him, encouraging him to move, setting the perfect pace for Pete.

Pete, following Patrick’s encouragements, grabbed Patrick’s hip with his free hand and started moving, thrusting into Patrick.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes. That’s… Pete that’s perfect. That’s… Oh God. There!”

Patrick stopped talking, replacing his words with louds mewls and panting. He placed his hand on the wall, overlapping Pete’s; his other hand grabbing onto Pete’s neck.

Patrick’s panting grew quicker as Pete felt his release building already. His thrusts got harder, more erratic. Patrick’s eyes opened and he mouthed “Oh God. Oh God.”

Pete took that as a good sign and moved his hand from Patrick’s hip to his erection. He stroked Patrick each time he thrust into him. Little squeaks left Patrick’s throat like this was something new to him. That turned Pete on even more and felt himself release inside Patrick, screaming his name. When Pete stopped moving, Patrick whimpered, “Peeete.”

Pete pulled out and spun Patrick around. He kissed him hard then dropped to his knees again. He looked up into Patrick’s slightly confused, but totally close to cumming eyes. Pete’s lips quirked up before he wrapped his lips around the head of Patrick’s cock while keeping his eyes locked on Patrick. Pete wanted to see Patrick’s orgasm face. He slid Patrick further into his mouth while his hand slid up Patrick’s thigh and onto his ass. Pete gripped Patrick’s ass and pulled him closer, further down his throat. He swirled his tongue and swallowed around Patrick, once, twice, three times. Patrick’s eyes rolled back, his jaw slacked and he fell against the wall. “I’m… I’m… I’m…”

Pete applied the slightest amount of suction and Patrick came hard, singing Pete’s name, then he collapsed onto the ground. He stared, wide-eyed, at Pete for a long while. He finally spoke up. “I uh… Thank you. Um. How about I get you back to your car? We have classes tomorrow.”

Pete nodded. “Yea, let’s go.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little raunchy too. But the scene is important to the story.

Pete was dumbfounded by Patrick’s total nonchalance over the next few weeks. The plus side was that his sex dreams about Professor Stump had almost completely stopped now and he had more energy because of it. However, Pete missed those dreams and contact with Professor Stump in class. Patrick barely ever called on him to answer questions anymore. Pete had finally had enough and decided to confront Patrick…err… his professor.

Pete charged into class the next day and marched up to Professor Stump. Patrick took one look at Pete’s stern face and sighed. “Can I help you, Mr. Wentz?”

“Damn straight! I want to talk about what happened!”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Patrick said, his face stripped of any emotion.

“Yes you do. Don’t even try to pretend you don’t,” Pete said loudly.

“I assure you Mr. Wentz; I have no idea what you are talking about. Now please take your seat.”

“Not until you at least acknowledge the fact that you know what the fuck I’m talking about.” Pete was fuming now and he was yelling loud enough that everyone within a ten foot radius heard him.

Patrick looked around at all the people staring at them, both in and out of the classroom. He sighed as he turned his attention back to Pete. He mumbled something inaudible, rolled his eyes and then said, “Mr. Wentz, I do not know what you are talking about or why you feel the need to yell at me or use obscenities. I am, however, very willing to meet with you after class to discuss whatever this subject you are so passionate about is. But if that is not good enough for you, then I insist you go home or somewhere besides this classroom since I do _not_ like getting yelled at.”

A harsh buzzing rippled through Pete’s body. He hadn’t felt it since that night in the bathroom. He’d missed it, if he was being honest.

Pete was suddenly aware of the many sets of eyes that were focused on him. He glanced at everyone then back at Professor Stump. “Yea, okay.”

Patrick nodded curtly at him. “Then please, take your seat.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The entire class had been hell. Pete had been slacking off on his studies for this class since he hadn’t really had been called on, but Professor Stump was obviously very upset at Pete for the scene before class. Professor Stump had called on Pete to answer at least half of the questions. Pete now felt like a fool while sitting in his seat waiting for the rest of the class to pile out. Patrick was ignoring Pete, along with all the overly-horny girls. Apparently an angry, hostile Professor Stump sends out a heat wave of hormones. Everyone, even the few straight guys in the class, was aroused today… except Pete. Today was probably the first time he hadn’t been turned on in class.

It took another five minutes after the class had cleared out for Patrick to acknowledge Pete again. He walked around the desk, bent over to fix a couple things, then swirled around and hopped up on the edge of the desk. He crossed his arms and ankles then stared up at Pete.

“So Mr. Wentz, are you trying to get me fired?”

Pete was taken aback. That was not what he had expected. “No, I just…”

“You just what, Pete? Almost yell about our sexual encounter in front of half the building?”

 “I didn’t think…”

“Of course you didn’t think, Pete. My job is on the line here. If you wanted to talk about that night at Three Aces, you should have said something in an e-mail, text, or -- here’s an idea – come up and asked me to talk after class; _NOT_ fucking accuse me of shit in front of people. We may be adults and you may be older than me, but I would still be at fault since I am your teacher. So like I said: Do you want me fired?”

“No, I just want you to stop fucking ignoring me,” Pete yelled then covered his mouth. What the fucked had he just said?

Patrick cocked his head to the side and smirked. Pete hadn’t seen that smirk since that night. Pete’s cock twitched.

“Is that so?” Patrick slid off the desk and strutted up to Pete. “You want more attention, hmm?” Patrick walked behind Pete and slid his hand down Pete’s chest. “I might be able to do that,” Patrick said close to Pete’s ear.

Patrick’s hand lowered and grazed the fabric over Pete’s erection. He was breathing in Pete’s ear. “But do you want in-class attention,” Patrick took his hand off Pete. Pete whimpered. “Or do you want outside of class attention?” Patrick cupped Pete. Pete’s eyes fluttered shut and his fell back onto Patrick’s shoulder. Then he heard it again, the humming. “Well Mr. Wentz? Which one would you prefer,” Patrick purred into Pete’s ear, barely more than a whisper.

“Outside. Definitely outside.”

“Outside of class? Well what kind of attention did you want outside of the class?”

Pete panted and placed his hand over Patrick’s, pushing it down for the extra pressure Pete was craving.

“Say it,” Patrick whispered. “I want to hear the words leave your lips.”

Pete opened his eyes slightly. The look on Patrick’s face was sinful. “I want to fuck you,” Pete managed to croak out after a few tries.

Patrick nipped Pete’s ear. “Good boy. Come to the Trowenhurst show at Double Door tonight. We’ll go from there.”

Patrick stood up and walked back down to the desk. He turned on his heel and gazed back up at Pete. “The show is at 9:00. Be there by 6:30 to help with setup. That way you’ll get backstage access and I might be able to give you a peek at what you’ll be looking forward to after the show.”

Pete nodded before standing up, not even attempting to hide the bulge in his jeans. He walked down to Patrick, ran his hand along the inside of his thigh as he leaned in close and whispered, “See you then, Teach.” Then he walked out of the class.


	8. Chapter 8

Pete drove around the block at least eight times trying to calm himself. His blood was already racing from the images of different Patricks dancing through his head; Professor Stump, Sex God Patrick on stage, and begging Patrick. It was only 6:15 and Pete was already so turned on that he couldn’t see straight. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the whole night without a little release especially when Patrick was going to be performing. Pete moaned loudly and hurried into the far end of the parking lot. He looked to make sure no one else was around; when the coast was clear he pulled his shirt up, undid his pants and pushed them down. Then he slid his hand down, grabbed ahold of himself and started jerking off. He closed his eyes and let the images of Patrick float freely through his mind; Patrick in front of the class; Patrick in front of a microphone; Patrick on his knees; Patrick’s mouth around….

“Oh fuck!”

Pete started beating faster – and then a knock on the window made him freeze. Pete sat perfectly still, hand still on himself. I opened his eyes and turned his head ever so slightly towards the direction of the knock; there stood grinning Patrick, bent over, watching him through the passenger side window.

“Need a hand,” Patrick asked through the window.

Pete continued to stare at Patrick, not sure what to do in this particular situation. He’d never been caught pleasuring himself in public, let alone by the person in his fantasies.

Patrick smirked his little smirk. “Or how about a mouth?”

Pete squeaked and took his hand off himself.

“I thought that might be a preferred option.”

Patrick opened the car door and climbed in. “Hey there.”

“Uh… hi?” Pete said, confused. He wasn’t 100% sure what was going on or if it was even really happening. He had almost convinced himself that it was a horribly embarrassing nightmare when he felt the heat of Patrick’s mouth around him. Pete looked down at the mass of golden hair moving up and down on him, a soft, appreciative humming sound rising to his ears.

Pete placed a hand on Patrick’s head, tangled his fingers in the silky smooth locks, and closed his eyes again. He didn’t care if he was dreaming or not now. He leaned his head against the headrest and let Patrick work, trying not to buck up too much. Soon enough Pete felt his release brewing inside. Apparently, Patrick did too; he put his hand around Pete’s shaft -- moving it with his mouth -- and sucked harder. Pete moaned and pulled Patrick up right before he exploded, shooting all over his own chest.

Pete gasped for air in an attempt to recover. Patrick leaned over and licked Pete’s chest clean, licking his lips before kissing Pete hard.

“Good now?”

Pete nodded.

“‘Kay. I’ll give you a few minutes to regroup and get dressed. You can meet us at the back door then.” With that Patrick left, disappearing as quickly as he’d appeared.

\------------------------------------------------

By 7:45, they were finished setting up. Pete had been introduced to the rest of Trowenhurst and most of the crew. Now everyone was in the Green Room chilling out until it was time to get ready for the show.

Patrick was in the corner talking animatedly about various subjects with the drummer, Bob Bryar. It was when Patrick brought up David Bowie and Prince, and everyone groaned, that Patrick got really worked up.

“Stop rolling your eyes, Bryar. Prince is…”

“Yea, yea, yea. Listen Stump, we have all heard your ravings about Prince. We get it, he’s a fucking genius. He revolutionized music. What the fuck ever. I’m not arguing. Hell, I might even agree with you. But I don’t care, I don’t want to hear it again!”

Patrick growled and the room went silent. Everyone’s eyes were now on Patrick. There was an electrical charge in the air. Patrick closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, slowly releasing the air from his lungs.

“Don’t do it, Patrick. Remember what happened last time you and Bryar had it out?” Ryland Blackington, rhythm guitarist said.

“Aw, don’t stop the fun Ry-Ry,” lead guitarist Jack Barakat said. “It’s been awhile since we’ve seen angry Tricky.”

“Yea, let ‘em duke it out,” Alx T. Marshall, keyboardist and backing vocalist encouraged.

“I’m with Ryland on this,” bass player Matt Rubano added. “Not that any of our input matters anyway. We all know that Patrick is going to do whatever Patrick is going to do.”

Patrick’s lip quirked up.

“Speaking of,” Jack said. “How’d you meet Lover Boy over here?”

Pete’s cheeks started to burn.

Patrick opened his eyes and turned towards his band. “He’s one of my students this semester,” he said, smirking at Pete.

“Isn’t that slightly, um, unethical,” asked Ryland.

“Oh definitely,” Patrick answered frankly. “However I just can’t seem to keep him away from me. So I figured I’d make the most of it.”

Everyone glanced at Pete and chuckled.

“I wish I had that problem,” Matt said.

Everyone nodded.

“Listen, it’s not all cupcakes and rainbows, okay? I mean yea, it’s pretty incredible at times. But other times, some of the people that do it…” Patrick stopped and shuddered.

“Like ‘Nightmare Nancy’ that brought you a homemade pillow stuffed with her own hair,” Alex T asked.

“Or ‘Jackoff Jerry’ sending you his cum-sock,” Matt added.

Patrick shuddered again. “Yea. Like them.”

Pete was gad he didn’t know any other details than what had just been said. But now he felt very awkward for how he’d been with Patrick and even sitting in the room with everyone. Pete looked Patrick up and down. He really as gorgeous. But maybe…

Pete’s head started buzzing and he heard the humming again. “Staystaystaystaystaystaystaystaystaystaystay”

Pete shook his head in an attempt to get the buzzing and humming to disappear.

A knocking at the door disrupted everything and Pete felt normal again.

The door opened and then Pete heard a familiar voice, “Sorry to intrude but it’s 8:30 and if Patrick isn’t going to be late… again… then everyone needs to leave so he can get ready to go on stage and make all the panties and boxers drop.”

That was the voice that had called Patrick away the last time he was at Double Door. The man walked down and plopped down on Jack’s lap. Now Pete had a face to put with the voice. “We still on for tonight,” The man asked Jack.

Jack pulled the man closer and kissed him gently. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The man beamed at Jack then looked at everyone else. “I wasn’t kidding. Everyone except Patrick needs to get the fuck out so he can…” He stopped and stared at Pete. “Who the fuck are you?”

“That’s Patrick’s new toy,” Jack told him.

“Gotcha. Well, hey there. I’m Alex, Alex Gaskarth. I’m Jack’s long-time toy as well as Trowenhurst’s manager. Nice to meet you New Boy-Toy. Unfortunately, you too need to get the fuck out. You also have to go to the showroom. You can come back here again after the show as long as you can hold on to that backstage access pass for the entire show. But for now, unless you are in the band and named Patrick Stump, you gotta go,” Alex said with a shrug.

“Whatever. I’m cool with that. I guess I’ll see everyone from the crowd,” Pete said.

Patrick got up and walked over to Pete. He sat down, straddled Pete’s legs, grabbed his face and pulled him into a hard, needy kiss. Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick and pulled him closer. Pete let his hands slide down and grab Patrick’s ass. Patrick, showing his approval, started to grind into Pete.

“Damn it Patrick, you can fuck him later! I’m only doing what you told me to do, remember? How the fuck am I supposed to do my job of kicking everyone out when you’re holding one hostage by the lips?”

Patrick nipped Pete’s bottom lip and tugged a little before letting go and pulling away. “He’s right. But uh, I’ll dress up special for you tonight. I’ll also do my best to stay away from you so you can watch the entire show this time, since it’ll be our foreplay.” Patrick bit his lip and flashed that wicked grin before standing up. “Ok, you heard the man. Everyone out.”

Pete got up and walked behind everyone else to leave. Before he exited the room he glanced back once more. Patrick was pulling his shirt off over his head, it was covering his face. Pete took in the sight of Patrick’s porcelain skin. It was smooth. It was flawless. It was… turning blue and scaly? That couldn’t possibly be right. Pete blinked and rubbed his eyes.

When Pete opened his eyes again, Patrick had his shirt off completely and was staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He looked… terrified. “No one’s allowed in here while I’m changing. Please go.”

“Sorry. I just…”

“GO!” Patrick yelled.

Pete cocked his head to the side and smiled. Maybe, despite his show of utter confidence, Patrick had body issues. “You look hot without a shirt. I hope to see more of you like that.” He left the room and closed the door behind him. ‘Scales,’ he thought. “I need to get my eyes checked.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it has taken so long to get this chapter up. I'm a college student, and it's almost time for finals. So the last few weeks have been spent on projects. presentations, and papers. Luckily this semester is almost over, and I will be able to devote more time to this story.

Pete had been in the crowd for a few minutes when Brendon bounced over to him.

“You finally came back,” Brendon said.

“Yea, finally. Wait, what are you doing here?”

“Man, this is the best place to pick someone up to get laid ever when Trowenhurst is here. That professor of yours is hot stuff! Everyone wants a piece of him; no one can get him. Therefore, sexual tension runs amuck and Bden gets laid because of that!”

“First of all,” Pete said, “stop talking about yourself in the third person. Second, as far as I’ve heard today, Patrick may be a player. So, I don’t know why he’s that unattainable. Third, stop being slutty!”

“Listen, Pete, I’m never going to stop being slutty, even if I ever decide to get into a monogamous relationship. So, stop trying to change me. And about Patrick, I heard he was a total player until a few weeks ago. Like, he’s been kinda laid back on stage – still the hottest thing on stage ever – but just, I dunno, almost normal. I’ve been asking around; Patrick hasn’t taken anyone home in several weeks. I guess you’ll see what I mean once Trownehurst gets on stage.”

No, I think I get it, kinda,” Pete said after a moment. “He has been closed off, and a bit of an asshole, in class for a few weeks.”

Brendon nodded. “Personality shift, I wonder what happened.”

“And where’d you get your information from,” Pete asked.

“Frank. Apparently, Patrick’s been the last one to leave the building since Arma stopped playing, and he’s always had a hot piece of ass leaving with him until a few weeks ago.”

“Well I may,” Pete was interrupted by Frank hopping on stage and applause.

“What’s up guys? Geez, there’s a lot of you here tonight. That can only mean one thing: Trowenhurst!”

The crowd shifted forward and everyone started hollering. “Yea, I love ‘em too. So, I’ve been told to inform everyone that the Patrick you all love and has been missing is back.”

The crowd went wild.

“And he’s hotter than ever before… That’s Gaskarth’s words, not mine. Either way it should be a beyond amazing show. So, I’m going to get my ass off stage and let the people you really wanna see come up. So without any further ado, ladies and gentlemen… Trowenhurst!”

The place went dark and the crowd screamed. A familiar guitar riff and Patrick’s smooth, sultry voice began to sing.

It's hot as hell in here  
Everybody wants to lose control

Pete’s knees went weak. “What the…”

“Holy fucking shit. Pete, do you feel that,” Brendon asked.

Pete nodded. He felt it alright.

“Pete?” Brendon tapped Pete’s shoulder.

Pete had forgotten that Brendon couldn’t see him. “Yea, B. Yea it’s…”

“Yea.”

 (whoa-oh) I hit the stage  
(whoa-oh) I make you crave  
So come give me your honey  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh

The lights went up, the spotlight hit Patrick, and the room went nuts. The hormones were so thick you could cut through them. Everyone screamed and rushed to get closer to the stage, closer to Patrick. One look at Patrick was all it took for Pete’s knees to buckle and he collapsed, panting, salivating.

Patrick looked like a punk vampire with that black, satin, aristocrat vest over a blood red, long-sleeved, button up shirt. The black, stretch, punker pants were tight and hung low on Patrick’s hips. They showed off his many assets. The zippers on the legs were half-unzipped to go over Patrick’s black Goth boots. The main zipper was just below a small strip of exposed stomach and just begged to be pulled down. Patrick’s lip ring was back, as was the eyeliner. However, there were no streaks of color in his hair this time. Instead, Patrick’s golden hair was gelled down; not one hair was out of place.

The first song ended and the whole crowd went crazy for Trownehurst, no, for Patrick. Pete had managed to gain back some control over his body and was standing again. Patrick looked, and sounded, so salacious, Pete wasn’t sure he’d get through the show without another incident.

The lights came up a bit more and Patrick smiled at everyone. “Well hello, everyone. It’s nice to see you.”

Even Patrick’s speaking voice was making people visibly swoon.

“Welcome to the show. We are Trowenhurst. My name is Patrick Stump, and I will be your host for the night.”

People were screaming their heads off. Pete had a good sense of what it must’ve been like in a 1960s Beatles’ crowd.

“So,” Patrick continued talking over the crowd, “I uh, I usually don’t speak a whole lot, but I’m making an exception tonight. You see there’s someone in the crowd that I’m trying to, um, persuade? Seduce? I don’t know, whatever you want to call it. Anyway, that person knows who they are. But if it’s not you, well I want you to pretend that it is, okay?”

Pete froze, his eyes on Patrick. The screaming got louder. Patrick smirked at Pete before saying, “So, this next song goes out to you.”

I hold on so nervously  
to me and my drink  
I wish it was cooling me  
But so far has not been good  
It’s been shitty  
and I feel awkward as I should  
This club has got to be  
the most pretentious thing  
since I thought you and me  
Well I am imagining  
a dark lit place  
or your place or my place

Pete stared at the sexual being that Patrick was on stage. The fog in his brain had returned, stronger than ever. He could feel every molecule in his body buzzing about erratically.  Pete was enthralled. He wanted more; no, he needed more. He needed more Patrick.

Well I’m not paralyzed  
but I seem to be struck by you

Patrick pointed at Pete.

I wanna make you move  
because you’re standing still

Pete felt the urge to move, to sway, to show off for Patrick and move closer to him.

If your body  
matches what your eyes can do

Patrick wiggled his hips in the most deliciously indecent manner Pete had ever seen.

You’ll probably move right through  
me on my way to you

Pete let his body move closer to the stage. He knew he shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t help it. Patrick was mesmerizing.

I hold out for one more drink  
before I think  
I’m looking to desperately  
But so far has not been fun  
I should just stay home  
if one thing really means one

There were only a couple people between Pete and the stage now. Brendon had managed to grab a hold of Pete’s arm and come with him.

This club will hopefully  
be closed in three weeks  
That would be cool with me

With Brendon’s help, Pete had made it to the front row and was pressed against the stage.

Well I’m still imagining

Patrick looked down at Pete and smiled.

A dark lit place

Patrick grabbed the microphone, got down on one knee, and ran his finger along Pete’s jawline.

Or your place or my place

Patrick traced his thumb along Pete’s lower lip.

Well I’m not paralyzed  
but I seem to be struck by you  
I wanna make you move  
because you’re standing still

Pete let his hips loosen up and sway freely to the bass line.

If your body  
matches what your eyes can do

Patrick ran his hand along the side of Pete’s face. Pete leaned into the touch.

You’ll probably move right through  
me on my way to you

Pete nipped Patrick’s middle finger as it was being slid across his mouth and sucked it into his mouth. Patrick’s eyes rolled back a little and his voice cracked ever so slightly.

Not paralyzed but I  
seem to be struck by you  
I wanna make you move  
because you’re standing still  
If your body

Patrick pulled his finger out of Pete’s mouth, then started thrusting his hips.

matches what  
your eyes can do  
You’ll probably move right through  
me on my way to you

Patrick ran his hands through Pete’s hair, grabbed a hold, and yanked his head back.

You’ll probably move right through

Patrick got his face as close as he could to Pete while still holding the microphone.

me on my way to you

Patrick dropped the mic and licked up Pete’s jaw. When he got to Pete’s ear he whispered, “You have no idea what you just started,” then let go, grabbed the mic, and stood up again.

You’ll probably move right through  
me on my way to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main song from this chapter is Paralyzer by Finger 11. I do not own the song or the band. All copyrights go to the band, writers, and/or any other person(s) they belong to.


	10. Chapter 10

The music ended, the crowd screamed their approval, and Pete was clinging to the stage to hold himself up. He stayed there for several songs while Patrick avoided him, but then…

Patrick grabbed the mic out of its stand then leaned on the stand and crossed his left foot over his right. He stayed there, staring out across the throng of people while the noise died down. When Patrick was content with the noise level, he cleared his throat and put the microphone to his lips.

“So, as I was saying earlier, there is someone in the crowd tonight that I’m trying to… persuade? Impress? Seduce? Whatever you want to call it. But this person has been a persistent pain in my ass for several months now. This person has bitched at me, pouted at me, yelled at me, and like I just said, been a major pain in my ass. However, this person has… opened me up more than anyone ever has, I think. This person has done things to me and has gotten under my skin. I haven’t decided whether that’s a good thing or not yet. But I want to find out, so, here’s another one that goes out to you.” Patrick winked, smiled, and stood up straight.

Brendon elbowed Pete in the ribs. “Dude, we _really_ need to talk.”

Pete nodded in Brendon’s direction while eyeing Patrick. “Pain in the ass, huh…” he thought.

Patrick turned and strutted to the band, exaggerating the wiggle of his hips, eliciting wolf whistles and catcalls from members of the audience. He turned his head back and smirked then turned back to the band. After a brief conversation, the band started playing but Ryland handed his guitar over to Patrick with a bow. This prompted more catcalls from the audience before the band started making their own catcalls and laughing. Patrick began played a killer guitar solo.

Pete froze. He knew that guitar solo. He knew exactly what Patrick was up to. Fuck, did he look good with that guitar.

“Oh wow, man!”  
“Wait a second. Whaddaya think the teacher’s gonna look like this year?”  
“Fucked up!”

The band laughed while Patrick made his way back to the microphone and started singing over them.

T-T-Teacher stop that screaming  
Teacher don’t you see?  
Don’t wanna be no uptown fool  
Maybe I should go to hell,   
but I’m doin’ well,   
Teacher needs to see me after school

Pete closed his eyes and let scenes from his dreams run freely through his mind. Damn Patrick…

I think of all the education that I missed  
But then my homework was never quite like this  
Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad  
I’m hot for teacher  
I got it bad, so bad  
I’m hot for teacher

Brendon elbowed Pete’s ribs hard. Pete opened his eyes and glared at him.

“The fuck,” Brendon hissed. “I know it can’t be a fucking coincidence that you’re in the audience the first time Trowenhurst plays this song, especially since you seem to be his favorite eye candy.”

Pete shrugged and turned his head back towards the stage. The band started talk-singing into their microphones again:

“Hey, I heard you missed us”  
“We’re back”  
“I brought my pencil”  
“Gimme something to write on man”

 Patrick’s eyes shined with a mischievous glint and his lips quirked up ever so slightly before he started singing over the band again.

I heard about your lessons  
but lessons are so cold  
I know about this school  
little one from Wilmington

The crowd cheered. Brendon elbowed Pete again. “DUDE…”

“We’ll talk later… maybe. Lay off!”

How did you get so bold  
How did you know the golden rule

The band sang the chorus. Patrick handed the guitar back to Ryland, and then he jumped off the stage and took a few steps to Pete. They stared at each other intensely for a few bars of guitar solo. Afterwards, Patrick grabbed a fistful of Pete’s shirt and pulled him in, claiming his lips. That’s the only way Pete could describe it: claiming.

Pete’s entire body buzzed to attention. The humming charged into his head, drowning out any other noises he’d been hearing. All there was now was Patrick’s lips kissing his and Pete’s hands roaming over the smooth surface of Patrick’s clothes. Pete was lost in the contradictory sensations that were enveloping the two of them into their own little bubble of a moment.

“CLASS DISMISSED!” …finally broke through their isolated bubble as the band and the audience yelled it at them.

Pete’s head was foggy and he felt disoriented when Patrick let go. Pete opened his eyes slowly, dreamily. He saw Patrick step away, his breathing heavy and hitched, tripping over his own feet. Pete smiled at the very un-Patrick like action. Pete thought he saw a hint of fear flash across Patrick’s face, but he wasn’t 100% sure, as it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by Patrick’s usual self-confident, sassy, sexy smile.

Patrick backed up to the stage, chuckled, jumped up, and went to the microphone. “Sorry about that. I got a little… carried away. I was swept up in the moment. I do that sometimes, and I know a few of you have been on the receiving end of those moments.” Patrick chuckled again. “It’s all part of the Trowenhurst entertainment package: sometimes you’re ogling; sometimes you’re being ogled.”

“Again I say: What the fuck,” Brendon hissed into Pete’s ear.

When Pete turned his whole body towards Brendon, he swayed off balance. His head was still foggy and humming; his body was sill sparking from the contact with Patrick. “Whatcha mean, Brenny?”

“Besides you obviously fucking around with your teacher?”

A slow, satisfied, toothy grin spread over Pete’s face. “Yea.”

“Well, how about the fact that I’m pretty sure I felt static electricity when your face collided with Patrick’s? Or how about the fact that I’m horny as hell because of some, I dunno, invisible sex wave or something that radiated out from one of my best friends and his teacher? Or how about the fact that you just called me Brenny?”

Pete shrugged. “I think… I think… I dunno what I think, except I do need to sit down. I feel… fuzzy? Yea, fuzzy.”

“It’s the ‘Stump Effect.’ You’ve been targeted and will now be going home with him. ‘Salways the same.”

“Mm’kay. Um, Brenny, help me over to the bar?”

“As long as you promise not to order any alcohol.”

“Nope, no booze for me.”

Brendon nodded, threw one of Pete’s arms over his shoulders, and helped Pete to a barstool. Frank took one look at Pete and shook his head. “I’ll get you some water.”

Pete nodded and giggled like a schoolgirl.

“You good now, Wentz?”

Pete nodded again.

“Alright, then. Listen, I’m going to go watch the rest of the show and scan the crown for a few lonesome-looking fellas. Frank will take care of you and make sure you get, um, wherever you need to be I guess.”

Frank sat a tall glass of water in front of Pete and said, “Drink up.”

“See,” Brendon said. “Frank’s got this. I’ll see you later. We _will_ talk about this.”

Pete waved goodbye to Brendon after he’d already disappeared into the crowd. Pete felt drunk and high, and kind of like a kid. Everything seemed new and exciting and fun. Pete giggled some more. He couldn’t wait to play with Patrick again.

Pete was still fuzzy, slightly less than before, but still fuzzy when Jack came looking for him. Pete had found a spinning-seat barstool and was spinning in little circles, stopping every three or four rotations so he didn’t fall off. He was giggling like the grown man-child he was. He hadn’t had that much fun for several months. Pete didn’t stop twirling after Jack tapped his shoulder a couple times. He didn’t stop to laugh after Jack made several dick jokes. However, the mention of Taco Bell made Pete stop. He was famished, and tacos sounded pretty amazing.

“You like Taco Bell,” Jack asked.

Pete nodded.

“Cool, dude. I had Alex run out and get a shit-ton before the last song. He should be back any minute. You still got that backstage pass?

Pete looked down. He lifted the shiny laminate that was dangling from his neck, examined it a moment to make sure it said backstage still. Proud that he still had it, Pete showed it to Jack with a triumphant grin. Jack chuckled softly, shook his head in amusement and said, “Come on, then. Let’s go get some tacos.”

Pete hopped up and let Jack safely guide him backstage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are an ever-so-slightly altered version of 'Hot For Teacher' by Van Halen. I don't own this song either. I just like making Patrick Stump sing naughty things.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is your warning: Pete and Patrick are at it again.

Patrick was nowhere in sight when Alex arrived with the Taco Bell. Jack hadn’t been kidding, there was enough food to feed a small army, or at least a _REALLY_ hungry band and crew. Patrick was in his street clothes when he finally reappeared backstage. Meanwhile, his band and crew were egging on Pete and Jack as they competed who could eat tacos the fastest. He eyed them all curiously from a place where no one could see him.

Within a few minutes, Pete shoved his last taco in his mouth. Almost everyone cheered. Ryland raised Pete’s right arm in victory. Almost everyone cheered, Jack didn’t cheer. He did clap a little, clearly disappointed that he’d lost a Taco Bell eating contest. Patrick chose that moment to make his presence known, walking out from his hideaway corner, clapping for Pete with a big grin on his face. Everyone turned their head towards Patrick; Pete half-choked on his last swallow of taco.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t know you where you were. They offered me tacos,” Pete explained with an apologetic tone.

Patrick waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not a problem. In fact, that was rather impressive,” he said while taking a few steps forward. “I believe you are the first person to ever beat Jack Barakat in a Taco Bell eating competition. Jack has a love affair with Taco Bell. I think the only thing he loves more than Taco Bell is Alex.”

Jack grumbled his agreement, and Alex planted a kiss on Jack’s cheek.

A soft chuckle escaped Patrick’s mouth, and his stage-seduction smile appeared. A hushed gasp spread across the room. Electric sparks went through Pete’s body, and his head felt light and fuzzy. Pete’s pants got tighter, and he was up and moving to Patrick before his head registered what he was doing. Then, he was pulling Patrick closer, crashing their lips together.

Patrick slowly pulled away with a smirk. “Besides, I like seeing how much you can fit in your mouth,” he said quiet enough that only Pete would hear. Pete blushed. He normally wouldn’t, but Patrick just had a way of getting those reactions out of him.

“So,” Patrick started in a normal volume, “You ready to go, or would you rather hang out with my band? I mean, it’s totally up to you, but I did sort of have some plans for us tonight. Although, we should probably skip the dinner part now.”

“Bowchickabowow,” Jack and Matt sang.

“Fuck off,” Pete yelled over his shoulder at them.

“But I thought that that’s what you had Patrick for,” Jack snarked.

Patrick’s lips quirked up. “Even if that is true, it is no one’s business except for me and Pete.”

“Patrick, I’m ready to go, and if you’re hungry we can still…”

Patrick placed a finger over Pete’s mouth to silence him. “I’m not really hungry. So it’s fine, honestly.”

Pete had performed on stage enough to know how famished someone would be after a show. “Did you eat while you were changing?”

“No, he didn’t. Stump’s some sort of freaky-ass anomaly who never seems to eat anything,” Bob answered.

“I eat,” Patrick said with an annoyed huff.

“When,” everyone except Pete asked in unison.

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Why is everyone so interested in my eating habit? Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I don’t like eating in front of people, that’s all. Besides, if I didn’t eat anything at all, how would I still be alive, hmm?”

“That’s why I said ‘anomaly’,” Bob said.

“Whatever,” Pete said to stop the forming argument. “I’m ready, Patrick,” Pete said in a highly suggested fashion.

Patrick looked over Pete’s shoulder and glared his warning at his band. They all took Patrick’s hint and stayed quiet. He looked back at Pete and his expression instantly changed into a big grin. “Good, let’s go.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

Pete and Patrick were parked in a secluded area with a great view of the nighttime Chicago skyline. It was almost romantic. Pete was talking nonstop about, who knows what the hell his mouth was spewing, attempting to fill the nervous silence that he was sure would be there if he was to stop talking. Patrick watched him silently, amused by it all.

After another five minutes of Pete’s nonsensical babbling, Patrick put his hand on Pete’s left thigh and rubbed it slowly. Pete held his breath and kept glancing at Patrick’s ever-rising hand until it was ghosting over the bulge that had been in Pete’s pants most of the night. Pete’s gaze moved from Patrick’s hand, to his arm, to his shoulder, to his neck, to his face. Pete gasped. Patrick had that look; the one that meant that he wasn’t played around this time.

Patrick unbuckled, crawled into Pete’s lap, and wrapped his arms around Pete’s neck. The look in Patrick’s eyes pierced through the last few shreds of resistance that Pete’s body had been trying to hold on to. Then, Patrick was kissing Pete. It was soft and gentle. Pete moaned a little, and his cock twitched a little. Patrick smiled, having obviously felt Pete’s reaction, and deepened the kiss ever-so-slightly. Pete liked this kind of kissing. It wasn’t like the other times he’d been kissed by Patrick: fast, urgent, and greedy. These were soft, exploratory kisses. They were designed to make Pete swoon and squirm, to get the exact reactions that Patrick wanted. Even though they were softer and slower, the promise of the more carnal things to come was still there.

Pete decided that it wasn’t worth it to play hard-to-get with Patrick. He decided that maybe it was time to take a play from Brendon’s book and just be the little slut he always felt like being when he was with Patrick. So Pete stopped holding back. He wrapped his arms around Patrick’s torso and slid his hands up Patrick’s shirt, running them all over Patrick’s soft, warm skin. Patrick put more into their still-locked lips. Pete gasped and was rewarded with Patrick slipping his tongue into Pete’s mouth. Pete’s tongue met Patrick’s, and there was an electric shock. Then, Pete’s head started to fill with a familiar buzz.

“ _takehimravishhimbesluttydonaughtythingstohimtakehimravishhimbesluttydonaughtythingstohim_ ”

“Oh fuck yes, I will,” Pete answered the comments in his head.

“ _leavemarksmakehimyourstakehimravishhimleavemarksmakehimyoursmakehimyoursmakehimyoursmakehimyours make. Him. Yours._ ”

Pete didn’t need to hear anything else from the may-or-may-not-be-in-his-head commands. He really didn’t care whether or not they were real; he was going to listen to them.

“Pants. Down. Now,” Pete ordered Patrick. He wasn’t sure whose pants he wanted down, but he wanted Patrick to get someone’s pants down. Patrick was happy to oblige. Patrick unbuttoned, unzipped, and shimmied down his own pants. He leaned down, pulled a lever on Pete’s seat, and Pete went down with it. After that, Patrick unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed down Pete’s pants.

Patrick stared at Pete’s naked cock. He licked his lips and bit his bottom lip and the corner of his lip quirked up. “What do you want me to do now,” he asked without looking away from Pete’s erection.

“I uh, I don’t know. I wasn’t…”

Patrick raised his eyes to meet Pete’s, staring through long lashes. That look would make any man, or woman, fall to their knees and beg to pleasure Patrick in any way he’d allow, or to just touch him.  Pete knew this because that’s all he wanted to do at that moment, to please Patrick.

“Pete,” Patrick said, barely more than a whisper, yet so powerful. “Tell me what you want me to do. All I want is for you to scream my name when I make you cum.”

Pete gulped loudly.

“But in order for you to do that, I need to know what you want. So, I am yours to command, Mr. Wentz. Just open your mouth, like so.” Patrick opened his mouth a little and leaned down. “Then you use your tongue to let me know what you want,” Patrick said before he licked the droplet of pre-cum off of Pete’s cock. “Pete, I am your sex genie, here to grant your every sexual fantasy, whatever you want, at least the one’s doable in this car right now.” Patrick flicked his tongue over the head of Pete’s cock again.

“ _makehimyours_ ”

A pool of heat started to form in Pete’s belly, and the sensations radiated out to every cell in his body. His body was at full attention. Pete stared, jaw slightly askew, at the sight of Patrick’s mouth that close to his dick, broken breaths leaving his mouth. “I…”

“Whatever. You. Want,” Patrick reiterated.

“ _takehimravishhimmakehimyoursbendhimtoyourwillmakehimyours_ ”

The potentially not there voice in Pete’s brain gave him the confidence boost he needed. “Down on your knees, Patrick.”

Patrick beamed and said, “As you wish,” before slinking down into the little leg compartment in front of Pete’s seat. “Now what, Master,” Patrick asked and quirked his eyebrow up.

The pitch of the buzzing went up, and Pete’s confidence soared. He propped himself up on his elbows before saying, “Put your mouth around my cock. Take all of it into your mouth.”

Patrick put his mouth around the tip of Pete’s cock and moved it down the shaft slowly, painstakingly slow.

“Good,” Pete sighed out when Patrick’s mouth was full. “Now look up at me and hum. Kinda make it a little like the girls in porno movies.”

Patrick turned his gaze upward and soulful, shiny, turquoise eyes stared up at Pete through those long, blonde lashes while he hummed happily and bobbed up and down. “Oh God, it’s so big. It’s the biggest dick I’ve ever seen. I need it to fuck me now. Yea, I need that big fucking cock to fuck my wet pussy.”

Pete laughed. “Dude, that is _too_ much like porn. Stop that.”

Patrick smirked. “Yes, sir.” Patrick twirled his tongue around Pete then took all of him into his mouth and sucked as he came back up, making a slurpy, pop sound when Pete’s cock left his mouth.

Pete threw his head back before collapsing back onto the seat. “Holy shit, Patrick. Your mouth, your gorgeous mouth.”

Patrick swirled the tip of his tongue and kissed patches of Pete’s thighs. “What do you need now, Pete?”

“What I need? I need to fuck you.”

“Oh yes, sir.” Patrick seductively moved back up into Pete’s lap, opened a compartment between the front seats and pulled out a condom and lube, then closed the compartment before he opened the foil square.

Pete watched Patrick’s fingers masterfully roll the condom onto Pete then pour a little lube on top of it. “Ready, Pete?”

Pete nodded. “I’ve been ready since you sang your first note of the night.”

Patrick grinned before raising himself up and positioning himself perfectly and then lowering himself down. Pete did all he could to not move and allow Patrick the time he needed to adjust.

“That good,” Patrick asked.

“So fucking good,” Pete replied.

“Now what,” Patrick asked.

“Sing for me,” Pete said, placing his hands on Patrick’s hips.

I remember every little thing  
as if it happened only yesterday  
Parking by the lake  
and there was not another car in sight

Pete huffed out a laugh. “Fucker,” he teased. He dug his fingers into Patrick’s hips and guided him up and down.

And I never had another  
looking any better than you did  
and all the kids at school  
they were wishing they were you tonight

“Conceited much,” Pete teased again.

“I hear things,” Patrick said pointedly.

“Well, thanks for not calling me a girl,” Pete said, moaning the last word because of Patrick swirling his hips in arch shapes.

and now our bodies are oh so close and tight

“Could be a little closer,” Pete choked out.

Patrick leaned down and gazed into Pete’s eyes.

It never felt so good, it never felt so…

“Oh, Pete. There. That’s… Ungh.”

Pete dug his fingers in tighter and thrust harder into Patrick at the same exact angle as before.

Patrick’s eyes widened, like the last time this happened. Patrick looked panicked, almost frightened. “How can you even… Fuck, there. Like that.” Patrick squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the look of panic was gone. “There! Oh, fuck. There. Please, Pete. Just like…”

Patrick sat straight up, the movement reminding Pete of the scene in The Little Mermaid where Ariel came up out of the water after Ursula had taken Ariel’s voice. Damn his sister, and damn Disney for making hot 16 year old cartoons.

Patrick scratching at his chest brought Pete back from his internal Disney vent. Patrick was beautiful; head tilted back, jaw slack, golden tresses stuck to his forehead, and his eyes rolled back in a moment of bliss. Patrick dug his nails in and scratched harder. “Please,” Patrick whispered.

Pete dug his fingers into Patrick’s hips, knowing full well that Patrick would have bruises there in the morning, and held on tight. Pete slammed into Patrick as much as he could.

“Yes. Pete, I’m going to… Just a little… There. Just like… I’m gonna…”

Patrick’s hips went rogue, circling and moving in ways Pete never knew where humanly possible. He felt his own release rapidly building.

“I need… Just like… Little more… Pete, please…”

Pete mustered up the last ounce of control he had over his hips and channeled into one more perfectly angled thrust into Patrick. That was it for him. He squeezed Patrick’s hips, closed his eyes, arched his back and came hard. Pete heard Patrick singing “Pete” over the sound of his own voice screaming Patrick’s name. Pete felt Patrick’s release splash onto his chest before Patrick collapsed down on top of him. Pete drew in a shaky breath and opened his eyes a little to stare at the glistening, blue Sex God that was Patrick Stump. Blue?

Pete rubbed his eyes before looking again. There lay his glistening Sex God, breathing heavily, but not a blue one. Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick and rubbed his back. He’d deal with his fucking hallucinations later. Right now, there was a practically perfect professor who needed his attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics are slightly altered version of "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights" by Meatloaf


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: There is quite a bit of language in this chapter.

Pete was finding it harder and harder to concentrate in his classes. His latest romp with Professor Stump had reignited the sex dreams, only now they were almost every night. He was always exhausted in the morning and felt totally drained. On top of that, he always had horribly painful morning wood that needed taken care of. By the time he was in class, most of his energy was depleted. To make matters worse, finals were now only three weeks away.

Pete grumbled while he showered. Pete grumbled on the drive to campus. Pete grumbled the whole way from the parking lot to the classroom. Pete grumbled even louder as he walked to his seat. But as soon as Professor Stump turned around and smiled at everyone, Pete completely forgot why he was mad.

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you are all having a terrific day, and I hope your classes have been treating you well. Before we get started, I want to take a moment to remind you about those two papers from the live shows you are supposed to attend. Several of you have turned in at least one of them. That is awesome. Some of you haven’t turned in any of them. That is perfectly acceptable, as long as you turn them in by the day of the final. Why am I reminding you now? It’s for those of you who have not gone out and seen one or both shows required. It’s also because I know that at least one of you had completely forgotten about the papers altogether. This way you still have the time to go out and see a couple shows and get papers written before finals are upon us. Now, two of you have submitted essays that need a little further attention. Ms. Shumaaker and Mr. Wentz, I would appreciate it if you would stay after class. With that said, let’s start today’s lesson.”

Pete sat in disbelief; he didn’t remember turning in a paper about one of the live shows he’d been to. It wasn’t for lack of shows; besides the two Trowenhurst performances, he’d been to at least a half dozen during the last couple months. He tried to find even a smidge of a memory about writing a paper and turning it in: nothing. “Fuck.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Wentz,” Professor Stump’s irritated voice broke through Pete’s wandering brain and brought it back to the present situation. Everyone was snickering at him. “Despite several rock legends’ testimonies, “to fuck” is not a major reason to make rock music. Since you seem to want to put in your two-cents, would you mind giving me something that’s a little less shallow? Hmm?”.

Patrick’s face was screwed into half-amusement, half-trying-not-to-smile.

“An answer less shallow than fucking,” Pete repeated.

“Yes, Mr. Wentz; less shallow than fucking,” Patrick snarled and started tapping his foot in a rhythm that resembled “When Doves Cry” by Prince.

“Well,” Pete started. His head started to buzz, and everything he heard was a bit muffled. A burst of unusually cocky confidence soared through his body. He decided that if he was already in hot water, he might as well not hold back. “I don’t know if it’s in the book or not, because quite honestly, I haven’t looked at that fucker in a while.

The whole class laughed until Professor Stump audibly growled. Then it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Pete smirked at Patrick. “But I guess for me,” Pete continued, “it’s always been about getting the message out that I want people to hear, and making sure that those people can move to it too. But, it can’t be exactly my thoughts, ya know? It needs to be something that can be interpreted differently by each individual, interpreted the way that person needs most at the time. It also needs to be something the kids can cling to; an ideal. Rock and Punk need to be there for the rebellious, the kids who aren’t all Top 40, when nothing and no one else is. But, uh, it’s like I said: That’s my own personal take on it, or whatever.”

The class sighed dreamily. It seemed like this was the first time the whole class was focused on Pete for something besides him being a distraction. This was a good focus.

“And if you get to fuck someone because of the music, well that’s just the cherry on top, or bottom, whichever you prefer,” Pete finished. A few “whoop whoops” and a whole lot of cat calls sounded from throughout the class. Pete smirked a challenge at Professor Stump, thinking “Your move, Stump.” The buzzing in his head intensified.

Patrick accepted Pete’s challenge with a smile. “What about those people who don’t want a cherry on top _or_ bottom?”

“Then they can have, I dunno, a hotdog or a bratwurst or whatever, on top or bottom. Either choice is perfectly acceptable to me. I mean, I like cherries and bratwursts, just not at the same time.”

“Mr. Wentz… Never mind, I already need to see you after class. Anyway, if you want to add something like that middle part of your answer, feel free. Otherwise, please keep your cherries and bratwursts to yourself for the rest of the class.”

Pete nodded. “You got it, Professor Hot Stuff.”

A few people gasped. The buzz in Pete’s head went away all at once. It left him feeling dizzy, and completely embarrassed. He wanted to apologize and explain that he didn’t know why he said those things. But he wasn’t going to apologize in front of the whole class.

Patrick looked mad enough that steam should have been coming out of his ears and his head should popped off, or maybe Pete had just been watching too many cartoons. “Not another word, appropriate or not, Mr. Wentz. Not one, Fucking. Word. I’ll see you after class.”

\------------------------------------------------------------

Pete sat silently in his seat after class had ended. Professor Stump was talking quietly to Debra Shuumaker, pointing at what Pete assumed was her paper. Patrick was smiling a cute, crooked smile at her that showed of one of his dimples. If Pete didn’t know any better, he’d assume Patrick was flirting with her. Maybe he was. Pete didn’t really know, all he knew at that moment was that he didn’t like the idea of Patrick flirting with other people.

 _But he’s not Patrick right now, he’s Professor Stump_ , Pete thought. He crossed his arms across his chest and pouted. He was sick of being quiet. In fact, Pete was sure that this was the longest he’d been quiet for any period of time, except when he was depressed. He huffed. “Excuse me; do I really need to be here? Or can I go and leave you two love birds here?”

Debra giggled nervously, and the now permanent lovey-dovey eyes that were on every female in the class stared hopefully at Professor Stump. Professor Stump shot Pete a dirty look. “I’ll deal with you in a minute, Mr. Wentz. I’m almost done with Ms. Shuumaker.”

Debra’s smile deflated, obviously disappointed with that answer. “Now Ms. Shuumaker,” Patrick said in his normal professor volume, “if you fix this one like I said, then I see no need for you to turn in another one. After all, I have proof that you were at one, don’t I? I saw you in the crowd with my own eyes. I do hope you enjoyed the Trowenhurst show last week.”

Pete gasped and sat forward. Patrick glanced over at him, his lips curled up into a vindictive sneer. Debra Shuumaker’s face reddened. She giggled again and nodded repeatedly. “Oh yes, yes I did. It was amazing. You are so talented.”

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it and thank you so much. You are too sweet,” Patrick said, the sneer now gone and focus back on Debra. “I hope to see you again sometime. Anyway, thank you for staying a little late. I hope I haven’t made you late for another class.”

Debra shook her head.

“Good. I look forward to reading your revised essay.” Patrick flashed a brilliant, bright smile at her, and Pete could see her reacting to Patrick already: knees crossed, higher pitched voice, hair flip, batting eyelashes. Pete wanted to slap her and push her away from his Patrick. Then he wanted to lock the door and show Patrick who he belonged to. _Yea_ , Pete thought, s _how Patrick who he belongs to._

The door slammed shut; Pete jumped. He looked around, Debra Shuumaker was gone, and it was just Patrick and him in the room. Patrick was locking the door. He turned and glared at Pete before stomping up to him.

“What the fuck was that, huh? Did you think it was funny? God, Pete. We are so close to being done with this semester, and you choose _now_ to piss me off? For God’s sake, we just fucked last night! So if this is one of your passive-aggressive stunts to get in my pants again, you’re doing it WRONG! First of all; pissing me off will not get me to fuck you again. It will make me go fuck people like Debra Shuumkaer just to piss you off! Second; if you want to fuck me again, take the direct route and just tell me. Do you really think I’m not willing to do that again?”

Pete didn’t know what to say. But despite pissing him off, Patrick was saying that he wanted to have sex with Pete again. Now, the weird feeling of cocky confidence was coming back and taking over his mouth. “Prove it, Patrick.”

“Why do you think I locked the door,” Patrick asked with a curious quirk of his eyebrow.

“I… Oooh,” Pete moaned at the feeling of Patrick’s lips on his neck.

“Stop pissing me off,” Patrick whispered into Pete’s ear, “and I will do things to you, you can’t even imagine yet. I’ll ruin you for all the other bratwursts and cherries in the world. I promise you that.”

Words got caught in Pete’s throat. Patrick placed his hand on Pete’s shoulder, running it along his skin while Patrick walked predatory circles around him. He finally stopped and climbed into Pete’s lap, his erection poking into Pete’s stomach. Patrick ran his long fingers though Pete’s messy black hair a few times before grabbing a fistful and yanking Pete’s head back.

“Keep pissing me off and…” Patrick growled low in his throat. “Just stop pissing me off, ok?” Patrick pressed feathery kisses across Pete’s face before ghosting his lips over Pete’s.

“I don’t know what it is about you, Pete, but you do things to me, make me feel things that no one else ever has. They’re the types of things that my mom told me to only happen in fairytales, and my dad told me to run away from as fast as I could.” Patrick laughed softly. “That probably explains exactly why my parents aren’t together anymore, huh? But if you’re willing, I’d like to explore these things a little further. What do you think?”

Pete nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Okay then, we need to do one little, tiny thing first,” Patrick released Pete’s hair and pulled his shirt up, tracing the scratch marks he’d left the night before. Patrick tipped Pete’s head up a little so that Pete was staring up into his eyes. “We need to get done with this semester. After that, you’ll no longer be my student. Therefore, we can fuck all we want and be seen in public together without fear of any consequences. Okay?”

Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick. “Okay,” he answered before pulling Patrick closer and burrowing his head in Patrick’s neck, nipping little spots, making Patrick moan.

“Now about those papers,” Patrick said and pushed Pete away.

“I haven’t written any,” Pete said with a pout.

“Yes, I know. I was going to tell you that you were off the hook and didn’t have to write any since I know you’ve been to at least two shows, and I also know exactly what you learned from them. I also know you know how to put rock into practice, Mr. Arma Angelus. However, being the vengeful man I am, that is no longer an option for you.”

Pete made a whiney sound of protest, much like a toddler does.

“Shush,” Patrick said. “If you promise to come to one more Trowenhurst show, say on the last day of the semester, then I won’t require papers from you AND you’ll get a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life. Deal,” Patrick asked, pushing his erection further into Pete.

“Fuck yes,” Pete answered, unbuttoning Patrick’s pants and running his finger along Patrick’s length. Patrick bit his lip and threw his head back.

“God,” Patrick sighed.

“So, does this mean we’re dating, or something? Like, you’re my hot, younger boyfriend, or whatever? Is this your proof, Professor Stump?”

“Make it to that last show, and then we’ll go from there,” Patrick said between broken breaths. “Pete, I need your mouth… NOW.”

“Whatever you say, Professor Stump. But I expect extra credit for this.”


	13. Chapter 13

The last three weeks of the semester flew by. Now, Pete was headed home from his last final to get ready for the Trowenhurst show, and his night with Patrick. It wasn’t that he and Patrick hadn’t been together since that day in the classroom; In fact, they’d had sex at least once a week since that confrontation. But Patrick had been holding back, promising to blow Pete’s mind, among other things, once the semester was over. Now that classes were officially done, Pete’s body was tingling with excitement; he just had to survive the show.

Pete smiled a too-wide grin that hurt his face while he parked the car, shut his car off, got out of the car, and sprinted up to his apartment. By the time he’d reached his door, he was shaking with excitement, making it almost impossible to get the key in the hole. Somehow he managed to get the key in and opened the door. He raced to his bathroom, stripping on the way, throwing clothes in random places (he promised himself he’d gather up tomorrow). If Patrick was going to put on the best show ever just for Pete, then Pete was going to look, and smell, amazing just for Patrick. Pete wasn’t so out of sync with stage-life that he’d forgotten how to look hot as fuck. Tonight, Pete was going to give Patrick’s looks a run for their money.

\-------------------------------------------------

It was 7:30 p.m. when Pete was finally convinced that he looked hot enough for Patrick. The show started at 9 p.m. There were no opening acts, just three glorious hours of Trowenhurst tonight; Patrick’s request. Trowenhurst hadn’t played a show since the last one Pete had been to. Patrick had been trying to save his voice. Although, Pete remembered a few gorgeous notes that Patrick had sung in the last three weeks that were just for him.

Pete’s cock twitched at the memories flooding into his brain. “God, it’s gonna be a long night.” There wasn’t much room for Pete’s cock to do anything at the moment; he was wearing the tightest pants he owned, his liquid, black vinyl, punker pants. They’d been custom fit for him back in his Arma days. They had a low-rise waist to show off his Bartskull tattoo. He had on a red, long-sleeved, button up shirt with a simple black vest over it. He wore his black and red DC Shoes Factory skate shoes to match his shirt and vest. He had his hair spiked out all over, except for the little bit of bangs he had. He had those flat ironed and slanted down over his forehead like he used to. He also chose to don the black eyeliner again. He kinda, totally hated himself for wearing it, but it completed the look and made him look 10x hotter. Just to add effect, he spritzed on a couple (or 10) spritzes of cologne. He checked himself over in the mirror once more before he left. He nodded his approval at his reflection, then headed out to Double Door.

\-------------------------------------------------

Pete had severely underestimated the draw that Trowenhurst had, especially when they hadn’t performed for almost a month. When he’d arrived at Double Door, they’d informed him that the Trowenhurst show had been moved to The Metro due to the overwhelming demand for tickets. Pete had gotten back in his car and headed north towards The Metro, grumbling the whole way about Patrick not telling him.

Once he got close to The Metro, his jaw dropped. It was a half hour until the show, and there was a line around the block with a no-nonsense looking, black bouncer with a clipboard and a walkie-talkie standing at the front of the line. The dude was huge; Arnold Schwarzenegger in T2 huge. It was unreal! That crowd was all, or at least 99.9%, Patrick’s draw. How was it that one, non-celebrity, person pull in that many people?

Pete found the closest parking spot he could (10 blocks away) and ran to the front door, to the man with the clipboard. “I need to get in.”

“Do you have a ticket,” the bouncer asked in a voice as deep as Michael Clarke Duncan’s, and with a Chicago accent straight out of an SNL skit.

“No, but I…”

“No ticket; no admittance. See that line? That’s the line for people waiting for tickets to become available. This show is sold out. There’s no way you’ll be getting in.”

“But you don’t understand, I need to get in there. Patrick invited me!” Pete went with whiney bitch voice this time. People within earshot laughed in disbelief at him.

“Yea, right. Do you know how many people have tried that line on me tonight? Try almost everyone without a ticket. Patrick left me a list of eight names that are allowed to be admitted with proper ID. There’s only one name on here that I don’t recognize. So unless you can Rumpelstiltskin this shit, you’re not…”

“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. Here,” Pete said hurriedly as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and gave the man his ID.

“Well I’ll be damned,” the bouncer said with a tone of amusement after he checked Pete’s credentials. “Alright, Brotha. Here’s your wristband. Head on in. That orange wristband gets you VIP admittance, so keep it on at all times. I’ll be inside right before the show starts. If you need anything, come get me; Ace is the name. I’m s’pose to take extra special care of you, Mr. Wentz.”

“Uh, thanks?” Pete wasn’t sure whether to feel comforted or terrified.

Ace said something into the walkie-talkie, then looked at Pete and said, “Enjoy,” before nodding at the man behind the door. Pete entered the building to a chorus of disgruntled groans from the line.

\-------------------------------------------------

Pete had been escorted to the middle of the very front of the crowd. “Patrick’s orders,” he’d been told. Pete heard hushed whispers, and saw fingers pointed in his direction. He wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or to feel cocky. He decided on a bit of both, just to play it safe.

Ten minutes before show time, a group of three came up to him; one of them was practically squealing. “Are… Are you Pete Wentz,” the squealing man, really pale with sunken eyes and bright, straight out of the box, red hair asked him. “From Arma Angelus?”

Pete nodded at him. “Yea, that’s me. Who are you?”

The redhead perked up. “Wow, I’m Gerard. I was a fan of Arma. Frankie told me you’d be here tonight.”

“Frankie?”

“Yea, Frankie Iero, from Double Door.”

“Oh my God, You’re Gee, Mikey’s older brother,” Pete yelled.

“Yea. Yea, that’s me.”

“Dude, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Pete said, grabbing Gerard’s hand and shaking it. “I can’t believe we’ve never met, especially since you and Frank are a thing.”

“Yea,” Gerard said quietly. “Frankie told me you used to go to Double Door all the time, but I find it best to just not go to bars and stuff. S’not really a good scene for me. I almost ruined my career. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t draw.”

It took a minute, but Pete finally understood what Gee had meant. “Oh, yea. Yea, that’s cool. So uh, no offense, but what’re you doing here, then?”

“Well,” Gee said sheepishly, “I’m here to meet you. Plus I’m staying in the middle of the crowd, and I have my friends Ian and Ray here to keep an eye on me.”

Pete nodded a greeting at the two men as Gerard introduced them. Ian had short ear-length, dark, curly hair. Pete recognized Ray from the music scene; he’d been a killer guitar player in a few bands. It was too bad none of them had worked out for him. Ray had a mass of curly hair that went past his shoulders and had a friendly fondness for Gerard in his eye.

“Oh, I’m also here to see Patrick… er, Trowenhurst. Love them. Patrick’s awesome,” Gerard added.

Pete nodded his agreement.

“Yea, so listen. I’d love to stay, but the show is gonna start soon, and if I’m gonna get back to the middle of this crowd, I need to do it before they announce the band. I really hope we can meet again.”

“Yea, totally. I’ll have Frank or Mikey set something up,” Pete said with a smile and a wave.

As he turned back towards the stage, he saw men and women making flirty eyes and obscene gestures at him. He smiled politely and shook his head. The sexual tension had hit and was building fast. That could only mean one thing.

The lights flickered off and back on, and the room exploded into cheers and screams of excitement.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” a familiar voice came over the speakers. Frank-fucking-Iero. Patrick must like the dude. “The Metro is proud to present, for the first time on its stage, Trowenhurst! I have a few things to mention before the band comes out, ok? 1) This is a 21 and over show; meaning there will probably be strong language, and there will most definitely be overly sexual content tonight. There will also be people drinking. So, if you are easily offended, you’ve probably never been to a Trowenhurst show before.”

The audience laughed and murmured their agreement.

“So basically, don’t attack people, verbally or physically, if you don’t like this stuff. You are free to leave. 2) I promise you right now, it _WILL_ bet rowdy tonight. I’ve been the bartender at enough Trowenhurst shows that I’ve seen everything that happens. So make sure you are listening to the security team. They are here to protect you just as much as the band. Why don’t you be nice and say “hi” to the security team up front, show them a little love.”

The audience yelled “hello” at the security guys and waved at them. Security stayed still.

“Speaking of the band, the third, and probably the most important, thing you need to remember tonight is this: do not attempt to sexually molest Patrick, even if you are lucky enough to be pulled into the show, okay? Touching, kissing, that is okay. But come on guys, I’ve seen some of you perverts try to do some really bad stuff. So if you try it, you will be escorted out. The only exception to this is if Patrick tells you to. That doesn’t happen very often, but he’s done it before. He’s strange like that… Ow! Stop poking me. I’m just telling them the truth, Patrick!”

The crowd went into a frenzy over the mention of a live and in person Patrick Stump. The mic for the PA system went dead, and at that moment, Pete heard his name being called from the crowd. He turned and saw Brendon waving at him and pushing his way over to him.

“Petey!”

“Bden!”

“Frankie totally added that exception because of you being here, you know that, right? Imagine how pissed Patrick would be if you were thrown out, Mr. On the VIP list.”

“How the fuck did you know that, Fucker?”

“Orange wristband,” Brendon said with a shrug, sipping a cocktail out of a straw. “Frank told me Patrick choses that color ‘cuz it’s his favorite. Frank also said that the only other people on the VIP list were Patrick’s family, even though most of them never show. Patrick’s dad and brother are here, though. But apparently his mother doesn’t like his on-stage antics, all the rest live out of state. Their names are put on the list more as a courtesy than anything. But just in case they ever decided to show up…”

“Yea,” Pete said, looking to see if he could find the other two orange wristbands.

“They’re in the balcony, out of sight,” Brendon told Pete. “They like to be here, but Patrick wants them to go unnoticed, you know, protect them as much as possible.”

“Since you seem to always have the answers, why am I upfront?”

Brendon gave Pete his ‘You stupid fuck’ look. “Do I _really_ have to answer that for you? He doesn’t want to _protect_ you,”

Pete made an indignant huff of protest.

“He wants to _play_ with you. Duh, asshat!” Brendon finished with a theatrical wave of his hand and sipped out of the straw again.

“Oooh, oh. Okay. I approve.”

“Of course you do,” a snotty, familiar voice said from behind Brendon. Then an even more familiar face propped its chin on Brendon’s shoulder. “You called him Professor Hot Stuff. Why else would you do that?”

“Ryan Ross, Queen Bitch of the class. How the hell are you? You’re not jealous or anything like that, are you?” Pete asked, sarcasm oozing into every word.

“No, at least not since I found my Brenny-Boo. He fucks so good after a Trowenhurst show, mmm,” Ryan said before placing a sloppy kiss on Brendon’s cheek, then licked back to his ear and tugged on it a little.

“Pete, I finally met someone who’s as freaky as I am, and with the same fucking libido. I met him at a restaurant after that last Trowenhurst show. I dunno Pete, he may be the one,” Brendon beamed.

“You’re so fucking sweet, Brenny-Pop. Wait ‘til after this show is done; I’m gonna take you home and suck that sweet right out of you.”

“Gross,” Pete sneered. “I don’t wanna hear about that.”

“Tough shit,” Ryan said with a simper. “Only the band can shut me up.”

The lights went out at that moment, as is someone had heard Pete’s internal cries for the show to begin. Frank’s voice came on the PA system again. “And now the moment you’ve been waiting for… Trowenhurst!”


	14. Chapter 14

The lights went out completely, and an oh-so-familiar intro started. Trowenhurst was consistent, if nothing else. Although, it was an amazing number, perfect for instantly hyping a room up.

The lights came up when they always did, but Pete was not ready for the mouthwatering sight on stage: Patrick was back in all his full Sex Godliness. The extra-tight black leather pants were back, only this time he had on a black, long-sleeved, spider web mesh netting shirt with nothing underneath. Patrick’s perfectly porcelain skin was on display for the world, at least The Metro, to see. There was just enough netting to conceal the little tufts of chest hair that Pete knew Patrick had, but it was still enough to see Patrick’s skin. It was so beautiful, especially for a man who usually didn’t even wear t-shirts. Of course, the black eyeliner was present. The lip ring was back as well. The biggest difference, besides the display of skin, was Patrick’s hair. His normally blonde locks were black with maroon “bangs” that were spiked up. Pete was salivating. He hadn’t even realized his mouth was open until he felt a streak of drool dripping down his chin, which he quickly wiped away.

Pete was being pushed forward, squished against the barricade, by people who were trying to get closer to his Patrick… **_HIS_** Patrick. Five different bouncers were evenly spaced along the front of the stage, Ace in the middle and within arm’s reach of Pete, so Pete knew that no one was getting to Patrick without Patrick’s say so. A smug grin spread across Pete’s face.

I can feel your fever, taking over  
Can you see your fever, taking over me?  
I can feel your fever, taking over  
Got a dirty feeling

Patrick looked down at Pete for the first time; his eyes widened and his jaw slacked. Patrick was speechless, at least temporarily. He’d forgotten to sing an entire line. _Mission accomplished_ , Pete thought. He batted his eyelashes innocently at Patrick; Patrick’s sexy stage simper showed up.

That you're the remedy

Patrick put the mic down on the stage. The music to the hook kept being played. Patrick hopped off the stage and strutted right to Pete. He looked Pete over from head-to-toe and back up again.

Patrick grabbed ahold of Pete’s shirt and pulled him as close as he could with the barricade there. He leaned in close to Pete’s ear, “I have to be honest; I wasn’t sure you’d show tonight,” Patrick whispered loudly, running his hand down Pete’s chest before letting him go.

“I promised,” Pete said in Patrick’s ear; shuddering a little.

“No one told me you’d arrived,” Patrick said. “I was informed via walkie-talkie when Dad and Kevin showed, but not you. I… I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. You look so good, Patrick. I just wanna lick every inch of you.”

“Later. I’ve got a show to do, and now that I know you’re here to stare at, and play with, I… You look, mmm. Maybe you had the right idea. Let’s go backstage.”

Pete pushed Patrick away, gasps of shock surrounding them, and smiled. “Later. Go sing pretty, Professor Hot Stuff.” Pete licked his lips, pushed his cheek out with his tongue, the bit his lip suggestively at Patrick before wiggling his eyebrows. “Later,” he mouthed.

Patrick’s face changed from shock to seduction in half a second. He held his hand out behind him. Ace put the mic in Patrick’s hand. The crowd screamed again. Patrick grabbed Pete’s shirt again and pulled him in.

Come here you naughty thing  
you’re such a tease

Ace opened the section of barricade in front of put and Patrick pulled him through. Then, Ace closed the barricade again.

You look so beautiful

Pete dropped to his knees. Patrick smiled at him and ran his thumb over Pete’s mouth.

down on your knees  
I’m gonna smear your black eyeliner  
and rip off all your

Pete pressed kisses to Patrick’s thighs, and then ran his tongue over the bulge in Patrick’s pants. Patrick’s eyes rolled back and his breath hitched. “Fuck,” Patrick moaned into the microphone. The atmosphere in the room changed. The sexual tension was now at a boiling point. Patrick grabbed Pete’s hair and yanked his head back. Patrick shook his head at Pete. Pete backed off and stood up.

You make me lose control

Pete winked at Patrick. Patrick took a step back in shock, and Pete was sure Patrick turned blue for a second. It was one of the lights though, wasn’t it? That had to be it. Yea.

I can’t let you go  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh

Pete looked up at the stage for a moment because the band all sang in harmony with Patrick; it was beautiful. Pete looked back to Patrick in time to see his perfect little ass stick out as he hopped back up on the stage while finishing the song. When Patrick turned back around, his skin was perfectly porcelain again.

Patrick took a few deep breaths before he put the microphone back up to his mouth. “Well hello, everyone.”

The crowd screamed.

“It is so very good to see all of your faces here tonight, all 1,150 of them.”

The crowd screamed again. Patrick smiled so big that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “So before we really get going, I wanted to thank each and every one of you for wanting tickets. I mean, Trowenhurst is playing The Metro. The Metro for fuck’s sake! That’s amazing. It’s a dream come true for us. So really, thank you all. We wouldn’t be here if you guys hadn’t called and pestered Double Door about tickets.” Patrick beamed at the audience for a minute before he continued. “We’ve got a special show for you tonight; three hours of us! If you’ve never been to one of our shows before, please don’t expect this kind of thing if you come back. This is an extra special performance; a one night only sort of deal.”

The audience got quiet.

“Anyhow, our three hour show will give us a chance to play some old stuff, and a few covers, as well as debut a bunch of new material we’ve been working on.”

The crowd screamed with excitement.

“With that being said, here’s a new on for you. It’s called ‘Gorgeous Nightmare’.”

Pete stayed where he was. He was pretty sure he should’ve been put back behind the barricade. Yet, Ace made no move to put him there, so he just stared at the stage, at Patrick, and listened to the new song.

I’ve got another confession to make  
So complicated, let me try to explain

Patrick sat down on the edge of the stage, ran his free hand through his hair, closed his eyes, and made a sex face; jaw ever so slightly slack.

Don’t want this feeling to go away  
So it stays, it stays, it stays, it stays

Patrick opened his eyes and stared out across the crowd.

Is it the way that you talk that’s causing me to freak?

Patrick pointed at a girl in the crowd. The bouncer closest to her opened up the barricade and pulled her through. She ran right to him.

Is it the way that you laugh that’s making my heart beat?

She giggled. Patrick leaned down and kissed her.

Is it the way that you kiss?  
It’s gotta be the way you taste, you taste, you taste, you taste

Patrick ran his thumb along the girl’s lips and nipped her chin. The girl screamed and fainted, falling safely into the arms of the waiting bouncer. The bouncer looked at Patrick, rolled his eyes at him, then carried the girl… somewhere out of the way. Patrick’s lips quirked up.

You’re such a gorgeous nightmare  
Old habits never seem to go away  
You make me feel brand new, yeah  
We resurrect, it’s like I’ve come back to life  
I feel so alive  
I feel so alive

Patrick stood back up.

First impressions are hard to erase  
Etched in my mind, and it just won’t go away  
Maybe I’m playing my cards way to safe  
I’ve gotta change, change, change, change

Patrick slid his hand down his chest and then up his shirt.

Is it the way you feel against my body?

Patrick scratched down his abdomen and slid his fingers under the edge of his pants.

Is it the way that you act  
so damn naughty

He pulled his fingers out then ran one over the bulge in his pants and back up his chest, grabbing ahold of his shirt.

Is it the way that you shake

Patrick’s hips wiggled in overly sexual circles.

When your hips move with your bass  
your bass, your bass, your bass

Patrick’s eyes hooded over and he looked out over the audience, pressed the microphone to his lips, and made the most beautiful “unh”, it sounded like he just came on stage. There were several fanatical screams followed by a few “Holy shit, they fainted!” Pete looked back behind him, trying to not laugh hysterically at the rush of people out the back, probably headed to the bathroom.

“ _watchhimplaywithhimclaimhimwatchhimplaywithhimclaimhimwatchhimplaywithhimclaimhim_ ”

The buzzing and humming hit Pete like a freight train. It was more intense than any other time it had hit him. Pete covered his ears and dropped to his knees. He shouted under his breath, his head felt like it was about to explode. Patrick glanced down, hopped off the stage and ran to Pete, squatting in front of him. He threw his mic to Ace and pulled Pete’s hands off his ears. Patrick gently placed his hands on either side of Pete’s face, and the pain simmered down to a dull roar. Patrick tipped Pete’s head back to look him over for damage. When Pete looked at Patrick, the genuine concern he saw melted his heart. He leaned into Patrick’s hand and smiled meekly at him. Relief flooded over Patrick’s face. “What happened,” Patrick asked.

“Vibratey, hummy thing. Felt like my brain was about to splatter across the stage.”

“Are you ok,” Patrick whispered, his voice breaking.

“Yea. I mean, as long as that doesn’t happen like that again.”

Patrick nodded and kissed Pete, nudging Pete’s mouth open with his tongue. Patrick pulled away and sighed, then he was up on the stage, mic in hand, finishing the song while glaring into the balcony.

I feel so alive!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in this chapter are slightly altered versions of:
> 
> 1) "Fever" by Bullet For My Valentine  
> 2) "Gorgeous Nightmare" by Escape the Fate
> 
> I do not own the songs or bands. I don't know the bands. I hold no copyrights whatsoever. As always, these songs are being used for my own perverted desires to see Patrick Stump let go of his inhibitions and be the naughty, Sex God we all know he could be.
> 
> \-------------------------------------------
> 
> Thanks for all the positive feedback on this, everyone. I am working hard to finish the story itself. I'm almost done with it. I'm trying to get what I have written typed up. So the plan is to post one chapter a week, maybe two depending on my homework schedule, until the whole thing is posted for you.


	15. Chapter 15

Several songs later, Pete was almost 100% again. Patrick was laying the sex on thick. He’d been playing with other audience members. Several of them, Pete was sure, were straight men. The audience was eating it up. Soon, the first hour of the show was complete, and Patrick was excusing himself and the band for a ten minute break. The audience headed out for drinks and bathroom breaks. Patrick hopped off the stage and went right to Pete.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You’re rather pale for you.”

Pete beamed at Patrick. “Never better, Pattycakes. I just have a slight ringing in my ears.”

Patrick stood on his toes and pressed a slow kiss to Pete forehead, radiating warmth out from where his lips made contact. The ringing was gone. “Better,” Patrick asked in a hushed whisper.

“Uh, yea. Wow. Kisses really do make the booboos go away,” Pete said with a laugh.

Patrick smiled at him. “Good. Listen, I’ve gotta go do a couple things. If you need anything, Ace’ll help you out. He can even sneak backstage to use the unoccupied bathroom there. I don’t need my special plaything missing part of the show because he’s stuck in line to pee.”

Pete nodded. Patrick did too, pressing a quick kiss to Pete’s head before he left. He grabbed one of the bouncers and headed backstage.

\------------------------------------------------------

Ace escorted Pete back to his little spot in front of the barricade after he’d used the backstage bathrooms. The room was still mostly empty, but Pete recognized Patrick’s backside up in the balcony, then came the yelling; Pete could only hear Patrick's side of it:

“Cad é an ifreann a cheapann tú go raibh tú ag déanamh?”

“Ní féidir liom cúram! Tá sé mo bréagán. Nach bhfuil aon cheart a imirt leis leat. Tá mé fear fásta. Ní féidir liom gá duit a ordú dó dom, Athair. Tá mé breá in ann é sin a dhéanamh mé féin.”

“Níl, go raibh do chosáin. Roghnaigh tú é. Ní raibh mé. Níl mé mar sin.”

“Sea, tá mé do mhac, ach ritheann fola Máthar trí mo veins chomh maith.”

“No, ní féidir liom mian leo a roghnú a cosán oiread. Beidh mé a roghnú mo chuid féin, mar gheall ar mo thuairimse, chun mé féin.”

“Nach bhfuil mé inis sé dó go fóill. Intinn agam a dhéanamh anocht.”

“Go raibh maith agat, a Athair. Le do thoil, ní hamháin go bhfuil spraoi le cad atá mianach. Tá sé mianach. Marcáilte mé air. Is breá liom tú, ach má bhriseann tú mo Peadar, beidh mé a bhriseann tú.”

Pete watched Patrick walk away, completely confused. What the hell language is that? How the hell did he know it? Who was he yelling at? A man looked over the balcony at him; he had blue eyes, blond and grey hair, and a silver mustache. He looked like an older version of Patrick. _Must’ve been his dad_ , Pete thought. The man stared intently at him, seeming to stare at Pete’s chest, then turned and walked away.

\------------------------------------------------------

Patrick waited an extra 15 minutes to continue. He wanted to give as many people as he could the chance to get back before he started up again. He sat on the edge of the stage, kicking his legs back and forth, talking and flirting with the audience. Only, this wasn’t Sex God stage Patrick, this was Professor Stump Patrick. Occasionally, Patrick looked over at Pete and winked at him, then he’d turn back to the rest of the audience. Patrick talked to the bouncers a little too. Apparently, Patrick knew them all, and they were all used to Patrick’s antics by now. Patrick took a few minutes to introduce them to the audience. Along with Ace, there was Bear (whose first name was Teddy), Maverick (“Yes, that’s my real name!”), Harrison (“My mom loved The Beatles AND _Star Wars_ , okay?”), and Bryan, who was the one who’d caught the first fainter.

After introductions, and most everyone was back, Patrick stood up, brushed himself off, and went over and talked to the band. When he turned back around, Patrick was on. The whole audience could feel the change.

Patrick walked, née, strutted to the microphone stand and stroked it while breathily asking, “Everyone ready for Round Two?”

Pete had to cover his ears to not have his eardrums broken by everyone behind him. Patrick saw this and stared at Pete, frozen with worry. Patrick looked into the balcony and growled, then looked back at Pete. Pete gestured behind him and for Patrick to calm down. He did.

“Alright. Then how about we start Round Two with something new, and dirty?”

Pete decided he should just cover his ears and keep them covered, but some instinct he couldn’t quite identify made him pull his hands away from his ears.

“This one goes out to a certain pain in my ass that I can’t seem to get rid of. But, also to all of you.”

A dancey, rock intro played; Patrick wiggled his hips in perfect rhythm to the music in a way that got everyone going. He bit the corner of his bottom lip and pointed at a plump redhead a few rows back and beckoned her to come to him. She looked around in disbelief before she pointed at herself questioningly. Patrick wiggled his eyebrows at her and nodded. She moved forward in complete disbelief, making her way to the stage. Patrick offered her his hand. She placed hers in his and Patrick pulled her up. He twirled her then brought her in close, her back to his front. She was grinning from ear-to-ear. Patrick wrapped his free arm around her and started singing.

You, you’re hotter than a cherry on a cigarette  
Bet every dollar mom’s a model but you’re better yet

Patrick put his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arm holding the microphone around her, bringing it back up to his lips.

Just 21 out on the run and turning every head

Patrick kissed her neck and slid his free hand up and down her curves and then across her stomach. The girl giggled and blushed horribly.

Your body’s built just like a weapon and you’re using it

Patrick spun her out, twirled her, and brought her back in, face-to-face this time. Pete saw the girl’s confidence soar in Patrick’s hands. She’d gone from shy to sexy flirt. Pete was a little jealous, but more in awe at what Patrick had just done.

But the devil can hear you when you say  
C’mon and get up (get up)  
Move your body, use your body, lose control

The redhead started dancing sexy, as if she was alone. _No_ , Pete thought. _She’s dancing like she knows she’s the sexiest woman in the world_. Pete smiled.

Rub it right up (Back up)

She turned around and started grinding on Patrick. Patrick pulled her in and danced with her, like she was truly the most beautiful woman in the world and all his.

Against my body  
Take my body, make it yours (so get up)

The girl wrapped her hands around Patrick’s ass and squeezed. Patrick beamed at her.

We’re gonna light this room on fire  
Yeah, you and I will burn it up tonight

Patrick leaned in and kissed her neck again, then nuzzled her ear.

The two of us are gonna fuel this fire  
No way in hell we’re slowing down tonight

Patrick wrapped his other arm around her. She moved one hand off his ass and moved it up to wrap around his neck. Patrick looked out at the audience briefly before whispering into the girl’s ear. She nodded her head, and she was radiant, absolutely stunning. Whatever Patrick had done, he’d done it well and might have just changed that girl’s life. She was the first person Pete had seen that hadn’t fainted after a dance and a whisper.

She turned around and kissed Patrick right on the lips; Harrison moved to pull her away, but Patrick held out his hand in protest to stop him. Patrick wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm as she was kissing him. Catcalls came from the audience. _Now_ , Pete was truly jealous.

Patrick opened one eye and peeked down at Pete. The girl pulled away, and Patrick grinned. However, Pete wasn’t sure if it was at the girl or at him. Damn Patrick and his stupid, cute sideways smiles. The girl giggled and hopped off the stage, dancing her way back to spot behind the barricade. Out of the corner of his eye, Pete saw several men making their way to her.

Then, Patrick was wiggling his finger at Pete, calling him up on stage. Pete pointed at himself and shook his head. Patrick smiled a wicked grin and nodded. Pete protested again, but then the same instinct that told him to uncover his ears was making him move to Patrick.

Pete hopped on stage, and Patrick twirled him too, although it was slightly awkward with Pete being slightly taller than Patrick. Pete was face-to-face with Patrick, body-to-body, no space between them. They were dancing in that way that always meant sex once you left wherever you were. Patrick ran his fingers through Pete’s hair and pulled him into a kiss: hot, deep, and oh-so-good. Their tongues played tag until they both pulled back gasping for air. Patrick flashed his knowing smirk and started singing again.

And just for fun, you take your tongue  
and run it over my lips  
God, I love the way you do it  
just for the hell of it  
We’re in positions that most people  
only say they know

Patrick slid his free hand down Pete’s arm, grabbed Pete’s hand and moved it over the throbbing bulge in Patrick’s pants, and made Pete’s fingers squeeze.

You’ve got your hand right on the landmine ready to blow

The crowd went wild.

But the devil can hear you when you say

Patrick tangled his fingers in Pete’s hair and pulled him close. “Play with me,” Patrick purred into Pete’s ear. “I give you my permission to take full advantage of me on stage.”

Pete squeezed Patrick’s package tighter; Patrick moaned into Pete’s ear, “Mmm, that’s it. Keep that up.”

C’mon and get up (Get Up)

Pete moved behind Patrick while Patrick continued to sing. Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick’s middle and started dancing with him the way they had that first night at Double Door. Pete let his hands explore Patrick, testing what limits, if any, Patrick’s consent came with. He started with publically grabbing Patrick’s crotch. Pete heard the gasps and saw the glances at the bouncers. The bouncers just shrugged and let Pete do what he wanted.

Pete briefly looked at the audience; Brendon had his “I fucking told you so,” smirk on his face. Pete made a mental note to slap Brendon down a few pegs at some later point in time. Pete looked at Ryan, who looked none-too-pleased. Pete smirked and nipped Patrick’s ear, causing him to gasp in the middle of a word. The effect on the audience was instant, radiating out, hitting each person in the audience. Pete did it again, only this time, on Patrick’s neck. Patrick’s breath hitched, his eyes closed, and he arched forward. A few people ran out of the room.

The two of us are gonna fuel this fire  
No way we’re slowing down tonight

Patrick dropped the microphone and turned around in Pete’s arms. Passion burned in Patrick’s eyes. He pressed close to Pete, leaned his head against Pete’s shoulder, and sang to Pete in a whisper.

I want you tapping on my backdoor  
I need you tapping on my backdoor, baby  
You’ve got me telling you I need more

Patrick growled; low, predatory, needy. “I’m not sure I can make it another two hours, Pete. I need… I need… _FUCK_!”

Something, some invisible force, emanated out from Patrick and flew across the room. Everyone, even the bouncers, had been affected this time.

Patrick was panting, staring up at Pete through long lashes. Pete had never seen this from Patrick; it was as if Patrick’s life was dependent on fucking Pete right there, that very minute. Pete’s brain fogged over; no humming, no buzzing, just foggy, eliminating all boundaries he had. “Patrick, I…”

Patrick unbuttoned Pete’s pants, pushed them down, and ran his hand along Pete’s length. Pete tried to grab Patrick, but Patrick smacked his hand away. Patrick stroked Pete until he was on the edge. Pete’s breathing quickened and Patrick pressed his lips to Pete’s. “Cum for me, Pete. Please? I need you to cum. Give it to me. Please, Pete?” Patrick inhaled each time Pete gasped. Right before Pete came, Patrick dropped to his knees and wrapped his mouth around Pete. The heat from Patrick’s mouth heightened all of Pete’s senses, pushing him over the edge and he came, screaming Patrick’s name and collapsing onto the stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are a slightly altered version of "Move Your Boby" by My Darkest Days


	16. Chapter 16

Pete woke up, somewhere. He didn’t know where he was, how he got there, or how long he’d been there. He searched his brain for any clues; the last thing he remembered was standing on the stage with his pants down, Patrick on his knees, mouth around him, and the most delicious orgasm he’d ever had. That was it. Pete sat up. His head was killing him, but he needed some answers. He looked around; to his right, he saw the girl who had fainted at the beginning of the show, still out cold. “The fuck?”

“You fell victim to Patrick’s whispery whiles,” Ace said. “I’m surprised you’re already awake. Here,” he said, handing Pete same aspirin and a tall glass of water. “Once those kick in, you can go back out front. I’m sure Patrick will be glad to see you. He was really worried when you fainted. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen him worried about his fainters before.”

“No… No, I didn’t _faint_. Patrick… Patrick gave me… He… He blew me on stage and I fucking collapsed!”

Ace’s laugh was deep and throaty, and maybe a little condescending. “Brotha, you got some crazy ass dreams. Even if _you_ are an exhibitionist, and Patrick was into that freaky shit, he wouldn’t be doin’ that here, in front of a sold out crowd. That boy knows better. He’s got a good thing goin’ and don’t need to be arrested. Now, lay your delusional head down on that pillow and wait for the painkillers to kick in. I’ll be back in 20 minutes to take you back out. Until then, I’ll go let Patrick know you’re awake and alright, delusional, but alright.”

Pete laid back down. He knew what happened. For the first time since he’d met Patrick, he knew he wasn’t imagining it. Pete needed answers, answers only Patrick could give him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Ace had walked Pete back out front while Patrick was singing. He wasn’t performing; Pete noticed when he was back in his spot in front of the barricade. No, Patrick was alone on stage, sitting on a stool with a black acoustic guitar, eyes closed, singing into the microphone.

How can I make it through  
All the things you do  
There’s just gotta be  
More to you and me

Patrick plucked out a guitar solo, scatting along with it. He opened his eyes and looked out across the crowd. Lights from cell phones illuminated the room. Patrick smiled weakly at everyone, his eyes trailing over Pete to the end of the row, then back to Pete. Patrick perked up.

I’m so addicted to all the things you do  
when you’re going down on me  
in between the sheets  
or the sounds you make  
with every breath you take  
it’s unlike anything when you’re loving me

I’m so addicted to you

Patrick ended the song by playing the last few chords slowly. Patrick excused himself after the applause had died off, telling everyone to take 20, go to the bathroom, get water, etc.

Patrick handed the guitar to Maverick then ran backstage. Three minutes later, he was jumping into Pete’s arms. “You’re okay! You’re really ok. Pete. Oh, Pete.”

Pete saw the guilt in Patrick’s eyes, and he knew it was time to ask his questions. Pete knew his imagination wasn’t good enough to come up with all the events of the evening.

“Patrick, can we go talk somewhere private? I need to ask you a few things. I’m so confused, I… Please?”

Patrick took a step back, clearly panicking. He looked up at the balcony, then back at Pete. Patrick sighed and nodded. “Yea, we can go to my dressing room.” Patrick laced his fingers with Pete’s and led him to the room, shut the door, and locked it. He sighed and hesitated before turning to Pete. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? What happened, Patrick? So much has happened, and not just tonight, but ever since the day I first saw you. I know something’s going on, and up until an hour ago, I had myself convinced that it was all in my head. But I know… Patrick, what the hell happened? No one saw what you did!”

Tears were forming in Patrick’s eyes when Pete stopped and looked at him again. Patrick was shaking; he looked like a trapped, terrified animal. “Pete, don’t make me… not like this. Not while you’re upset.”

“Dammit, Patrick. I deserve to know what the hell is going on. Just fucking tell me already!”

“I,” a tear slid down Patrick’s cheek. “Ceart go leor. An bhfuil sé do bhealach a dhéanamh.”

Patrick wiped the tears from his face sighed. “Alright, Pete. I’ll tell you.” Patrick’s voice was breaking. He took a shaky breath. When he spoke again, it was with a thick, Irish accent. “My name is Patrick Vaughn Stumph. I was born in a small maritime town in Ireland called Malahide. That was back in 1865.”

Pete snorted out a laugh. “C’mon, Patrick.”

“Bí ciúin. Sorry, quiet if you want me to tell you this. Now where I was? Oh, yes. Yes, I was born in Malahide, Ireland in 1865 to Patricia Vaughn and David Stumph. My father met my in Dublin when he was looking for women to fuck so he could survive. My mother had recently been brought ashore by a bastard of a man who’d stolen her hat and cloak in an attempt to enslave her. My father was instantly charmed by my mother; my mother was instantly charmed by my father. So my father forced the bastard to give up my mother’s possessions and they ran away together, to Malahide. About a year after they ran away, I was born. When I was 10 years old, it became apparent that I was not normal. I was a freak, an abomination, a demon; I was called many things, and because of that, my parents and I were run out of town. For you see, my mother is not your typical female. Nor is my father your typical male.”

“Okay, Patrick. Enough is eno…”

Patrick growled, and he flashed blue. Pete jumped up and away from Patrick. He knew that wasn’t his imagination or the lights. Patrick really was blue. “Did you… You… Blue!”

“Will you let me fucking finish? I will explain it all, I promise.”

Pete cautiously walked back and sat down. He nodded.

“Thank you. Now, my parents ran because I was uncontrollable at that time, so they left and built a little house along the coast so that they could figure out exactly what I could do, and to help me learn to control my abilities. Also, my mother was close to the sea again.”

“Patrick? What are you?”

“Ah, that is a very good question. I am… unique. One-of-a-kind. I am my very own species: half-incubus from my father, and half-moruadh, or merman in your country, from my mother. In all my parents’ studying of me, they figured out whose abilities I inherited. It seems I have my mother’s beauty and her singing abilities, with all of its sexual pull. However, I am more like my father: the non-stop secretion of sex pheromones, shape shifting, I need other people’s orgasms for sustenance, and I have the ability to read people's minds. i can also get into their heads and bend their will for my own purposes.” Patrick shrugged nonchalantly. “Shape shifting is actually the most useful for me, though.”

Pete sat staring at Patrick. “No, you… you can’t… How can you…”

Patrick sighed, closed his eyes, and hummed a little tune. His body morphed. Pete’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Patrick’s clothes had disappeared, and his skin was a beautiful, translucent blue with green speckles along the edges of his scales. His feet were larger and slightly webbed.  Black, curved horns protruded out of his head. He blue gills that stuck out from behind his ears. He had dark blue, almost black, bat-like wings, and a black, scaly tail with a heart shaped tip that was swishing behind him. His hair looked like tendrils of thinly spun gold, and his eyes swirled like the sea. His body was that of a chiseled Adonis. “This, this is what I am, Pete, but it’s not who I am. I tried to find myself, but I just couldn’t. I felt alone, and gave up so long ago on even trying to finding someone who could possibly accept me as I am. I had accepted that I would be alone for the rest of my life. But then you came along with your smart mouth and your hoodie. You haunted my every dream. So I decided to haunt yours to see if you could be more than just a meal, or two.”

Pete stood up and backed away. “So, you’ve been lying to me about everything? You… you used me AND forced me to feel and do things?”

“At first, yes, a little, but Pete, I couldn’t help some of it. It’s just naturally in me. But the rest I stopped because I felt bad about it. I tried to fight it all, but then you yelled at me about avoiding you. No one has ever done that.  I really liked you, and I really wanted you to genuinely like me too. I even marked you as mine so all the others would stay away from you.”

Pete rubbed the warm scratch marks on his chest. Tears were streaming down Patrick’s face. Pete felt bad, but now he had no idea whether he actually felt bad or if Patrick was just playing with his emotions.

“What was that on stage? They all thought I fainted.”

“Merely a simple illusion I placed in their heads.”

“Is that what happens every time I’ve seen someone faint?”

Patrick nodded warily. “Not every time, but often, yes.”

Pete shook his head and barked out a laugh in disbelief. Patrick morphed back into his prior appearance and made a step towards Pete.”

“Don’t. Just don’t, I…”

A knock sounded at the door. “Show time, Mr. Stump. Everything alright,” Ace yelled through the door.

Patrick reached out to touch Pete’s arm, but Pete jerked away, backing further away from Patrick. “Don’t touch me. Just don’t even fucking touch me. I don’t know who, or what, the fuck you are.”

“Pete, please don’t do this,” Patrick whispered through the tears, his voice breaking, and his heart shattering. “I love you.”

“Fuck you,” Pete whispered, disdain dripping through the words; repugnance oozing from Pete’s actions and was all over his face.

Patrick freaked out: jerky movements, rapid breathing, he collapsed onto the floor, tears falling freely. “I’ll be out in three minutes. I’m just finishing up in here,” He answered Ace, his voice completely level, as if his world wasn’t crashing down around him.

“Cool. I’ll go tell the band and wait by the stage .”

Pete waited until he was no longer able to hear Ace’s footsteps anymore before he bolted to the door. “I gotta go,” he said before leaving, running out The Metro and no stopping until he got to his car. He got in and went home and showered again. He tried to scrub Patrick’s mark off his chest, but then he stopped and clung to them until he was bleeding from the puncture wounds his fingernails made by squeezing so tight. He yelled obscenities at the top of his lungs and hit the shower wall with an angry fist. He collapsed onto the shower floor, and turned off the water. He cried, cried like he’d never cried in his life, convulsing and choking for air at times. He fell asleep in the empty tub, naked, angry, and completely heartbroken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from "Addicted" by Saving Abel. All copyrights and ownership go to their prospective people. I claim none.
> 
>  
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------
> 
> As always, thanks for reading this. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. That being said, I am not going to post for a couple of weeks. This chapter has emotionally traumatized me and I need a little bit of time to get my head right again. But I'll be back with some good stuff after that. I promise.


	17. Chapter 17

Two years had passed since that night at The Metro, and not one day had gone by that Pete hadn’t thought of Patrick. He’d moved out of state, transferred universities, and now he was about to graduate with honors with a Musical Education degree from Iowa State University. He had a job interview lined up at a music studio in New York City. It was a good time to be Pete Wentz, all except for the part where his brain refused to let go of Patrick.

Pete had kinda become obsessed Patrick’s story. He’d done some research on Patrick’s origin story; well, he had contacted a few professors who had a wealth of knowledge on myths and mythology. He’d asked them about Incubi and Moruadhs, or Merrows, for a more English-friendly version of the word. The information they’d given him matched up to Patrick’s, and Pete was able to identify the different parts of each on Patrick. So Pete went to a genetics professor with the information he’d gotten and asked them if it would at all be possible for an Incubus and a Merrow to mate and produce a half-breed. He got kicked out of the office _after_ being laughed at. But, at least he believed Patrick now. Although, believing Patrick didn’t stop Pete from still being angry and hurt over everything. He wouldn’t take back transferring to Iowa State, but he really wished he and Patrick could have had their discussion under different circumstances.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

The graduation ceremony had been amazing. Pete had invited his family, friends, and old bandmates to come see him graduate; everyone had showed up. He truly felt like the luckiest man in the world (only with a small, Patrick-shaped hole missing from his life).

Pete’s fellow music major graduates had given Pete 20 tickets to an end-of-term concert at Hilton Coliseum to see a fairly unknown band that had been making some major buzz at colleges and universities across the country. Rumor had it that the band was being wooed by every major, and minor, record label around, they just hadn’t committed to anyone… yet. Apparently they were exploring their options. Pete took the ground floor tickets, and invited everyone who’d come to Iowa for him. His parents and most of his former bandmates declined. However, his brother and sister agreed to go, as well as Andy, Joe, Ashlee, Gabe, Brendon, Ryan, Bill, Frank, Mikey, Gerard, Ray, Travie, Chris, and Ian. Now, they were all headed to the coliseum from the back of its packed parking lot.

“So, Pete, when’s the last time you were at a concert,” Joe asked.

“I went to one a few weeks ago.”

“Concerts that are required by class don’t count, Amigo,” Gabe corrected.

“Oh,” Pete said. “Then I uh, I don’t… I don’t remember.”

“Yes you do, Peter. Stop lying to us. Your last concert was that Tro…” Brendon slapped his hand over Ryan’s mouth to stop him from speaking. Ryan, however, just kept talking into Brendon’s hand.

“Sorry, Petey. I just got him housebroken; manners are next on my list.”

Pete laughed. “It’s ok, promise. He’s right, though: it’s been two years. I’m a bad music major, huh?”

“Nah, man. You just got your heart fucked with by a hot-ass musician,” Travie said, flinging an arm over Pete’s shoulders.

“Hot ass, hot faced, bulgerific, musician. I could go on and on about that tasty piece of man-meat,” Ryan said after licking Brendon’s hand, freeing his mouth.

“The way you are, Pete,” Travie said, stopping Ryan’s raving, “ I’d be worried if you had been to concerts since then.”

“You know,” Frank said. “Trowenhurst stopped doing as many shows after you left. Even the ones they did do, well, Patrick just wasn’t quite himself after that. Eventually, they stopped playing shows altogether. I haven’t heard about them playing a show in, oh, gee-whiz, I’d say 18 months.”

Mikey and Gerard nodded. “Poor Patrick,” Gerard said.

“Poor Pete,” Mikey corrected.

“If you ask me, they both need to stop pouting and fix whatever it is that happened between the two of them,” Ashlee interjected.

“Yea, what did happen exactly,” Chris asked, wrapping his arm around Ashlee’s waist.

The whole group stopped walking and stared at Pete.

“Yea,” Bill said while cuddled up to Gabe, “I mean, you moved out of the state, to boring ol’ Iowa. You, the man who obsesses and depresses when your relationships go bad, acted like a mature man and left the scene of the relationship.”

Everyone stepped closer to Pete, forming a circle made of couples attached to each other. Pete looked around at his friends and just shrugged. “I, we, Things were crazy and I needed to get away. That’s all.”

Everyone groaned.

“If that’s true, then why haven’t you been on a single date since you left Chicago,” Hillary asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Yea, how come,” Pete’s brother, Andrew, added.

Pete glared at his siblings, then at the rest of them. “Aren’t we supposed to be having fun and celebrating tonight? Not attacking my decisions, or whatever?”

“Who are we seeing tonight,” Andy asked, changing the direction of the conversation. Pete smile, grateful for his friend.

“I dunno. The tickets say ‘Graduation Concert’. They do these concerts every semester, but the performers are different each time. The band isn’t usually booked until after the semester has begun. They do it that way so they can sell the tickets all semester, get a bigger turnout. There were flyers, but I never looked at one. But, the entirety of the student body has been buzzing about this concert, excitement and mad because they weren’t graduating. Apparently this band is the next big thing,” Pete said, walking again, his friends following.

When they got to the entrance, Pete’s friends kept moving but he stopped. “Ace?”

“Tickets, please,” The man said. Pete handed him the tickets, waiting for the man to look at him. But he didn’t; he took the tickets, tore them in half, and handed back the stubs and said, “Enjoy.”

Pete’s friends grabbed his arm and pulled him in. “No, but he…”

“Let’s go,” they all yelled at him before he could say anything else. Pete nodded and went with them. _I’m seeing things again_ , he thought.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Pete and his friends took up an entire row of seats. They were 18 rows back. It was an awesome view of the stage without having the deafness that came from being too close to the speakers at a concert for over 10,000 people. They all talked excitedly amongst themselves, waiting for the show to begin. They all made guesses as to who was performing.

Finally, the wait was over. The lights went down and a video played on a large screen at the back of the stage. Pete couldn’t hear what was being said on the video due to the screams of excitement echoing throughout the room. Although, Pete noted, the visuals were amazing: shots of campus crowds from across the United States.

Soon enough, the screen went dark and excitement buzzed through the air. The first few chords played, and Pete felt an eerily familiar feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. The lights came up, shrouding the stage in a wall of white. The audience went wild. The lights moved and created a spotlight effect, creating an aura of white around a single person standing behind a microphone, holding a guitar. The brightness faded to reveal the man behind the microphone: Patrick.


	18. Chapter 18

Pete was frozen in place, staring up at the man he’d run away from two years prior. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run away again; but he mostly wanted to run up on stage and kiss away all the tears that had fallen the last time he had seen Patrick. He wanted to apologize before yelling at Patrick and calling him a fucking bastard for not telling him sooner, possibly saving all the tears and anger that had occurred since then. Pete felt wetness on his cheeks; he reached up to touch it, realizing that he was crying. He also realized that all of his friends were staring at him, waiting for what he wanted to do.

“I’m okay. Let’s stay. Besides, we’ll make more of a scene if we just up and leave anyway,” Pete said right before Patrick started singing.

I feel the salty waves come in  
I feel them crash against my skin  
and I smile as I respire  
because I know they’ll never win

Pete took a few shaky breaths before looking back at the stage, back at Patrick. Patrick was even more beautiful than Pete remembered. However, he looked different on stage, more casual. He had on black and white Converse shoes, black skinny jeans, a cream colored scoop neck shirt with a black leather jacket over that, and a pair of glasses with wide black frames. His hair was just blonde, no special designs in it, and he had the fedora back on his head. The look suited him. Pete felt the reactions his body had to Patrick’s body, his friends were falling prey to it as well.

More to the point, I need to show  
how much I can come and go  
other plans fell through  
and put a heavy load on you, I know  
there’s no more that need be said  
when I’m inching through your bed  
Take a look around instead and watch me go

The band harmonized the last word, and the crowd went nuts. Pete smiled and went along with the crowd. After all, they really were an amazing band.

Stop there, and let me correct it  
I wanna live a life from a new perspective  
You come along because I love your face  
and I’ll admire your expensive taste and  
Who cares? Divine intervention  
I wanna be praised from a new perspective  
but leaving now would be a good idea  
so catch me up on getting out of here

It’s not fair, just let me perfect it  
Don’t wanna live a life that was comprehensive  
‘cuz seeing clear would be a bad idea  
Now catch me up on getting out of here  
So catch me up on getting out of here

Can we fast-forward ‘til you go down on me?

The song ended, the crowd cheered, and Patrick smiled. Although, Pete noted, his smile was not as bright as it once had been.

“Well hello, graduates! And a big hello to the family and friends of the graduates. Congratulations!”

Everyone screamed at Patrick. Brendon rubbed Pete’s back reassuringly and smiled.

“Need a drink,” Frank asked Pete quietly. Pete barked out a laugh.

“Yea, wow. So, uh, some of you may know this: until 18 months ago I was a professor in Illinois.”

People screamed fanatically at Patrick. Pete saw the sexual tension in the audience building already.

“Yea, but you see, I had to make a choice: my music or teaching. A few things happened in my life that pretty much made the decision for me. So, I turned in my resignation letter, finished out the semester, and then put all my time and effort into this music thing. Now look at me, singing to you graduates and guests of graduates, all 13,987 of you. This is the biggest show that Trowenhurst has ever done. It’s crazy to think that just two years ago…”

Words seemed to catch in Patrick’s throat. He stalled for a minute. He took his fedora off with one hand, fluffed his hair with the other, and then replaced the fedora. Then he laughed nervously off to the side of the microphone and smiled. The crowd leaned forward with anticipation of the ending of Patrick’s story.

“Just a couple years ago, we played a crowd that was 1,149 people; that was a sold out crowd, and we were blown away by that many people.”

Pete repeated the number in his head. _He didn’t count me_ , he thought. Pete’s shoulders slumped.

“Anyway, you guys didn’t come here to listen to me yammer on about random shit, did you/. So let’s get this show started; whataya say?”

Everyone cheered.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” Patrick said, taunting the crowd. They screamed even louder; Pete heard a few people’s voices crack from screaming so loud. “That’s more like it. I mean, you just fucking graduated!”

That got the response that Patrick had obviously been waiting for. A little smirk that Pete recognized, even from where he was standing, flashed across Patrick’s lips, and then the song started. It was a song that Pete had prayed a hundred times to never hear again and a hundred and one times to hear.

It’s hot as hell in here  
Everybody wants to lose control

Pete looked at his friends, who were lost to Patrick’s charms. Everyone in the crowd was, except Pete. Pete realized that he didn’t feel the same as he usually did, not exactly. He wondered why.

Patrick was playing with the audience, but not in the way that he used to. No, this seemed to be to sexually frustrate them. He wiggled his hips at them, made suggestive gestures and faces, but the one-on-one interaction had all but disappeared. Patrick captivated them, held their attention, made them feel like he was singing to them, but he wasn’t going into the audience and touching them, or playing with them.

A few songs later, Patrick was talking to the audience, trying to catch his breath. “Wow, you guys are awesome. You are keeping me on my toes, that’s for sure. You guys have a certain vibe that I haven’t felt in a while. It’s pretty awesome to feel like this again, thank you. So right now I’d like to sing something, but it’s not one of ours. I love this song, and it sort of sets the mood for the moment. It’s called ‘20th Century Boy’.”

Friends say it’s fine  
Friends say it’s good  
Everybody says it’s just like Robin Hood

Pete saw the old Patrick emerging from its hiding place. A confidence that had been missing was back. The electric, sexual feeling was starting to buzz.

20th century boy  
I wanna be your toy  
20th century boy  
I wanna be your toy  
I wanna be your toy  
Yeah

The crowd went into a frenzy over the last note: high, long, and meant to impress. Pete’s cock twitched.

Patrick giggled and bit his lip. There he was: old Patrick. _Finally_ , Pete thought. Pete looked down the line of his friends again. He’d seen most of them like that at one point or another because of Patrick, panting and crossing their legs. Yup, Patrick was back. Pete didn’t feel the buzz he’d grown to associate with Patrick when he was in an audience. Not that Pete didn’t feel anything; he felt plenty, but it just wasn’t the same this time around.

“So, are you guys ready for something a little more… dirty?” Patrick asked them with full stage-simper, so of course everyone screamed like little fangirls and fanboys.

“Yea? Ok then. This is something I wrote for someone. He’s never heard it. Hell, he doesn’t even know I wrote it. But maybe one day he will, right? Alright, here we go.”

The bass thrummed out a deep, steady beat. One guitar added a little spicy zigzag sound while another slid in between the two with a melody. When the drum came in, it sounded like sex to Pete. Hot, dirty, and sweaty.

“No” is a dirty word  
never gonna say it first  
“No” is just a thought that never crosses my mind

Maybe in the parking lot  
you better bring a friend along  
Better off together than just one hand alone

Pete blushed. Memories of an empty parking lot and Patrick’s mouth… Pete’s knees went weak and his pants felt too tight.

“S” is for the simple need  
“E” is for the ecstasy  
“X” is just to mark the spot  
‘Cuz that’s the one you really want

Yes, sex is always the answer  
It’s never the question  
‘Cuz the answer’s yes, oh the answer’s  
Not just a suggestion  
If you ask the question  
Then it’s always yes  
Yeah

Pete’s heart was racing, and he was panting. He looked like every other audience member. He looked around and spotted Ace by one of the backstage entrances; Bryan was by the other. They each had a clipboard. Pete dug in his pocket, grabbed his wallet and pulled out his ID, hoping Patrick hadn’t changed his policy on the VIP list.

I’m lovin’ what you wanna wear  
I wonder what’s up under there  
Wonder if I’ll get to feel it under my tongue  
I love to always to set you free  
All of you all over me  
God, I love hearing the sound you make  
the second you’re done

Pete’s cock was at full attention, mashed up against his already too tight jeans, and was throbbing painfully. He moved past his friends as fast as the rows would allow him to. If his friends noticed that he was on the move, they didn’t make any mention of it. They were totally enraptured by Patrick. Once he was in the aisle, he zoomed right to Ace, who was staring at the clipboard like it was the most amazing thing ever made.

“I need to get backstage.”

Ace huffed in annoyance. “Do you have a pass?”

“No, but I was hoping…”

“No pass; no entry, unless your name is on this list. So unless you can…”

“Rumpelstiltskin the name Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III from said list?”

Ace looked up at Pete.

Pete slapped his down on the clipboard with a soft clap and smiled a smile that was too big for his face and showed too much teeth. “Here’s my ID, Brotha. Please tell me I’m still on that list.”

Ace returned Pete’s smile. “Boy, you have some explainin’ to do! Did you know that Patrick… Hold on.” Ace stuck two fingers to his mouth and whistled towards the front of the stage. “Yo, Mav, get over here and guard this goddamn door.” Ace grabbed Pete by the arm and dragged him backstage before he continued talking. “Patrick has been beside himself since you ran away. I was gonna run after you and drag you back by the fringe, but Patrick said to let you go.”

“Does he know I’m here, Ace?”

Ace took a moment to think about it. “No,” he replied thoughtfully. “But that would explain the sudden change in his performance. In other words, he doesn’t know you’re here, but I think he can feel you. You know, sense you, even though he doesn’t realize it.”

Pete’s jaw dropped. “So you know he’s…”

“Some kind of sex-eater? Of course I do. Why the hell do you think he trusts me to be so close to him? Or why I was given the task to take special care of you?”

“Well, what about the other bouncers? And the band, do they know?”

“Bryan knows, but other than him, no one has a clue.”

“What about when I collapsed?”

Ace sighed. “Yea, I knew what had happened. But my orders are simple: act like nothing happened and tell whomever it is that they have fainted. No exceptions. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t want to lie to you. I honestly thought Patrick would’ve changed the orders for you, but he just avoided me after it happened. So I stuck with what I knew to do.”

Pete nodded and scrunched his face up in confusion. “Orders,” he asked.

“Been protecting the Stumph’s since 1702; I was a present to Mr. David. He liked me so much; he injected me with his blood to keep me alive. When Patrick went out on his own in 1888, I went with him. I’ve been with him ever since. I love that boy like my own.”

Pete smiled at the affection Ace was radiating. He also smiled because all the missing pieces were starting to fall into place; everything was starting to make sense.

Ace stopped Pete outside a door with Patrick’s name on it. “Wait in here. He’ll be in to freshen up in about 20 minutes. I’ll have the band play their extended solos. Have fun, Brotha,” Ace said with a wink. He opened the door to let Pete in to the dim, red room with a royal blue shag carpet. “If you wanna listen to the show, turn the knob on that speaker up there.”

“Cool, thanks,” Pete said.

“No problem, Mr. Wentz. Glad you’re here,” Ace said, then shut the door.

Pete took several deep breaths and looked around the room. There was an overstuffed chair by a large, potted plant in the corner that was behind the door. Next to that was a large vanity with three mirror section and round, florescent light bulbs around the edge. Hair products, body spray, and little bits of makeup were strewn across the white, marble table. An uncomfortable looking wood and cloth director’s chair sat in front the vanity. It was the brightest spot in the entire room. Across the room was a long, overstuffed leather couch. Next to the couch stood a tall lamp, and another potted plant was in the corner on the other side of the door. Pete settled on the overstuffed chair and sat down to wait for Patrick. He closed his eyes, took a few more deep breaths and concentrated on not freaking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in this chapter are:
> 
> "New Perspective" by Panic! at the Disco  
> "S.E.X." by Nickelback  
> "20th Century Boy" by T. Rex.... However; the version I am working off of is the cover that Adam Lambert did. If you want to hear it, check out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1UIGH-VX1U It's definitely worth a listen.
> 
> "S.E.X." has been slightly altered to fit the needs of my pervy little mind.


	19. Chapter 19

Pete had just fallen asleep when he heard Ace’s muffled voice outside the door talking to Patrick.

“I know. You haven’t been like this since…”

“I know, I know. Just… Just don’t say his name, Ace. I can’t… It still hurts. You’d think after two years I’d have gotten over it, but I just… I don’t know.”

“I know, Patrick. Maybe this is a sign that you are.”

“Yea, maybe.”

“Anyway, you know the drill: Call for me when you need me.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Pete heard the sound of the turning doorknob and sprinted over to the couch, almost tripping over his feet on the way. He plopped down just before Patrick walked in and locked the door, his back to Pete. Patrick flopped down onto the chair in front of the vanity mirror. Patrick stared at his reflection and made faces at himself for a couple minutes. Pete did his best to not release the bubble of laughs in his throat. He concentrated, instead, on taking in the vision of this Patrick. He looked, awkward? Maybe. He was still Patrick, but the self-assured, Sex God that Pete had grown accustomed to was gone. This Patrick lacked most of the confidence that had inhabited Patrick’s body before.

Patrick morphed between his blue skin and his usual appearance, seeming to play spot the difference, crinkling his eyebrows and leaning in close to fully examine his self. He finally stopped while on his normal self, and stood up, pulling his shirt off. He turned around and froze, shirt tangled in his arms over his head, skin turning blue again. He stared at Pete, blinking repeatedly as if there was something stuck in his eyes.

“Hey, Professor Hot Stuff,” Pete said, his voice quiet and meek because of his dry mouth, mostly.\Patrick sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He morphed into full half-breed, then opened his eyes wide and stared at Pete, letting his breath out slowly.

Pete closed his eyes, swallowed a few times to moisten his mouth again, and gathered all the courage he could muster. He took one final deep breath and opened his eyes. “Aren’t you gonna congratulate me personally?”

Patrick blinked at Pete some more. “Con-Congratulate you?”

“Well yea,” Pete said as he stood up, his knees too weak for his liking. “You’re here to congratulate all the graduates by putting on an awesome show, right? Well, that’s me: Pete Wentz, college graduate.” Pete smiled at Patrick, but also at himself.

Patrick blinked a few more times before grinning back at Pete. He threw his shirt to the side and ran to Pete, morphing back to his normal appearance along the way. Pete held out his arms and wrapped Patrick into them when the two collided. Pete nuzzled Patrick’s neck and inhaled. He still smelled like Patrick.

“Pete, it’s really you, right,” Patrick asked into Pete’s chest.

“Yea,” Pete answered on a sigh. “S’really me.”

Patrick started shaking, except, Pete realized, it wasn’t just shaking. He heard little sobs and sniffles coming from Patrick, and his shirt felt damp. “Are you crying?”

Patrick peeked up at Pete. “No, you are.”

Pete swiped a finger under Patrick’s glasses and collected one of Patrick’s tears and showed it to him. “Liar.”

Patrick wiped across Pete’s left cheek and showed Pete a tear. “Nuh uh.”

They stood there, beaming at each other in silence for a long moment. Then their bodies collided again, only this time they were all hands, legs, and lips.

“Still mad at you,” Pete mumbled while he kissed all over Patrick’s face.

“I know,” Patrick said, kissing the sections of Pete’s face he could. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Pete stopped kissing Patrick, pushed him a few inches away, and looked him in the eyes. “Me too,” he said and placed a sift kiss to Patrick’s lips. “Me too.”

Patrick hummed happily; a buzzy, hummy sound.  Pete stopped and pulled away. He hadn’t felt anything from the hums, or anything from Patrick all evening.

“What’s wrong, Pete?”

“You’ve been singing and humming, and I don’t feel like I used to, not exactly. Some of it is there, but the knee-buckling intensity is gone.”

“Oh that,” Patrick said with a shrug. “I had my dad teach me how to, how can I explain this? Um, it’s kinda like flipping off a power switch that’s attached to a certain individual, that way I can’t control, or affect, them… err, you, anymore. I, uh, I was really hoping I’d see you again and, uh, I didn’t want you to… feel like you had to do anything.”

“So everything I’m feeling is all me?”

Patrick nodded. “All you.”

“Can you prove it?”

“I thought that’s what my explanation was; you asked me about…”

“Patrick, try the hummy, buzzy, Jedi mind control thing.”

Patrick rolled his eyes, but focused on sending commands directly to Pete. Pete felt something, like a little push against the walls of his brain. It was actually pretty annoying, but not buzzy or hummy. Pete grinned at Patrick and pulled him into a kiss. “All me,” he mumbled into Patrick’s mouth.

“All you,” Patrick repeated as he pushed Pete onto the couch.

Pete suddenly felt like he didn’t have enough hands to touch Patrick with. Pete wanted to hug him, hold his face and kiss him stupid, undress him, run his fingers across Patrick’s skin, and play with him, all at the same time. Pete growled his severe displeasure at not being born with ten hands.

“S’wrong now?”

“Not enough hands. Need more,” Pete said while doing his best to get Patrick’s pants off of him. It shouldn’t be that difficult to get pants off of a standing man!

“Want a hand,” Patrick offered.

Pete smirked and shook his head, concentrating on the task at hand: getting all of his fingers to move together towards the common goal of unbuttoning and unzipping Patrick’s pants. Those fucking pants needed to be off five minutes ago. Pete stuck his tongue out in concentration. Finally, FINALLY, he had undone Patrick’s pants and was now fully able to slide them down. Pete was sure he heard his fingertips cheer in their triumph.

Pete slid Patrick’s pants down slowly. He wanted to savor the sight of each inch of Patrick’s skin as it was exposed. He wanted to engrain this moment in his brain; burn the image into his eyes so he’d never forget. Pete pressed kisses to Patrick’s hips, and Patrick snaked his fingers through Pete’s hair. Pete pulled his face away as he slid Patrick’s pants down to expose his fully erect cock. Pete wrapped his mouth around the tips and licked the droplets of pre-come off. Patrick hissed and pulled Pete’s hair.

Pete took more of Patrick into his mouth while he pushed Patrick’s damned pants as far down as his current position would allow. Patrick stepped out of them and kicked them behind him. As soon as Patrick’s legs were still again, Patrick grabbed Patrick’s ass and pulled him closer. “Missed this; missed you,” Pete attempted to say while his mouth was full, but Patrick got the message. “Me too. Missed you. Oh, Pete.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty glorious minutes later, they were lying naked on the couch, curled around each other, each trying to catch his breath.

“Yo, Patrick,” Ace called through the door. “I really hate to do this to you, but the band has exhausted its solo resources. They need you on stage. Should prolly bring Pete with you; his friends have been looking for him.”

“Shit,”Patrick hissed and jumped up. “ _That’s_ what I was doing.” Patrick spun in a half-circle looking for his pants. “Get dressed, Pete,” he said before pulling his pants up. He went to the vanity, crouched down, and pulled out a small suitcase. He unzipped it and pushed the lid backwards. He rummaged through until he’d found what he was looking for. He held the shirt up and glanced over it before pulling it over his head.

Pete smiled whimsically at Patrick’s frenzy while putting his own clothes back on. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered before; it’s cute.”

Patrick rolled his eyes at Pete again.

“Why don’t you shape shift into some clothes?”

“Doesn’t work like that. I can only change my body,” Patrick said while pulling his shirt down and flattening the creases.

“That sucks,” Pete said.

Patrick nodded and checked himself over in the mirror. “No, that won’t do,” he muttered.

Pete watched in complete amusement as Patrick changed his hair three times. Patrick nodded at himself and spun around. “You like?”

Pete nodded. Patrick’s hair looked like a longer version of what he’d worn that night at the Metro. Pete took the few steps to Patrick and kissed him again. “Suits you,” he mumbled before kissing him again.

“Yo, guys, let’s go,” Ace called again, more insistent this time.

Patrick laced his fingers with Pete’s, smiled, and pulled away. He squeezed Pete’s hands and led him out. Ace smiled at the two of them before escorting them to the side of the stage. Patrick took a deep breath, released Pete’s fingers and took two steps towards the stage.

“One quick thing, Patrick,” Ace said.

Patrick turned and raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“Don’t go playin’ with the audience just because you have your favorite toy back. These guys don’t know you, and they could get upset. Or worse yet, tackle you and take advantage of you. So just… just behave, boy.”

Patrick smiled affectionately at Ace. “Yes, sir. I promise; I won’t play with them.” Patrick winked at Pete then turned and strutted on to the stage, welcomed back by a loud round of applause.

“Sorry about that,” Patrick said once he was at the microphone. “I was trying to let my band show off, and in the meantime, I got distracted backstage by hair dye. You like?”

Everyone screamed their approval at him. Patrick pulled the microphone out of the stand, and cocked his hip out, leaning on the stand. “Awesome. Since I have your approval, we’ll continue this celebration. Yea?”

Patrick waved a finger at the band and a sexy little song started playing.

Take the flesh from me  
put it on display

Patrick raised the edge of his shirt up, teasing the audience with a small section of his stomach.

We’ve got mouths to feed  
I’m sick of running away  
I can’t believe my eyes, I’m terrified  
Life; full of death, and some say end of times  
Take a piece of me tonight, and soon I’ll be

Patrick turned and wiggled his finger at Pete. “Come here,” he mouthed.

“Go on, Brotha. Patrick needs something to play with. If it ain’t you, it’s gonna be one of them,” Ace said.

“Yea,” Petesaid. He took a breath and headed out. Some of Pete’s classmates recognized him and hollered at him over Patrick’s singing.

“Yo, Pete!”

“Hey, Pete!”

“Pete, you’re so hot!”

“So _that’s_ where you disappeared to,  asshat!”

We’re already dead  
We’re already dead  
We’re already dead  
We’re already dead

The music played on, and Patrick started talking. “Some of you obviously recognize Mr. Wentz, here. But did you know that he was one of _my_ students before he transferred here.”

“What?” That was the general reaction to Patrick’s revelation.

“Oh, yes. It’s true,” Patrick said and walked to Pete. “Isn’t it, Pete?”

Pete wiggled his eyebrows and nodded.

Patrick walked a predatory circle around Pete amid the catcalls from the audience. “Yea, I didn’t know he was here until a little while ago.”

Patrick stopped when he was behind Pete; he ran his left hand around Pete’s side and across his stomach, letting his fingers drift up under the hem of Pete’s shirt.

“To be perfectly honest, I really should have transferred Mr. Wentz to another instructor,” Patrick said as he scratched his nails down Pete’s chest. “But I just couldn’t do it. I mean, look at him! Isn’t he just mouthwateringly gorgeous?”

People yelled obscene propositions at Pete. Pete heard Patrick chuckle behind him, but not into the microphone.

“I loved to stare at him, and imagine. Things.” Patrick moved his hand down, down into Pete’s pants. “Eventually, I just had to,” Patrick grabbed ahold of Pete’s hard on and stroked him. Pete sucked in and threw his head back onto Patrick’s shoulder. “Play with him,” Patrick finished.

Patrick’s mood was altering the room; even Pete felt some of it. Patrick was… happy? Playful? Horny? All of the above, Pete decided. Patrick pressed a few soft kisses to Pete’s back, out of sight from the crowd. “But after only one semester with me, he moved away without even leaving a forwarding address. That was two years ago. So imagine my surprise when I saw him here tonight.”

Patrick released his hold on Pete and slowly pulled his hand out of Pete’s pants, pressing his fingers into Pete’s skin on the way up, marking Pete. When his hand was out, he wrapped it around Pete’s hip and swayed it along with his own.

I love the way that you bleed  
it’s dripping over me

Patrick ran his hand over the now very apparent bulge in Pete’s pants.

My tongue is loving the taste  
of skin between my teeth

Patrick walked back around and faced Pete.

It’s like a dead masquerade,  
so come and dance with me

Patrick stepped closer and was grinding into Pete. Pete grabbed Patrick’s hips and danced along.

My flesh it starts to decay  
I’m dropping to

Pete fell to his knees and kissed the bulge in Patrick’s pants. Patrick threw his head back and whispered “my knees” into the microphone. The room went into a frenzy. Pete didn’t pay much attention. He just ran his hands over Patrick.

Yeah, every time we touch  
don’t you know you’ve got me  
on pins and needles?  
Oh, it’s not about the lust  
Yeah, you know you’ve got me  
on pins and needles

We’re already dead  
We’re already dead  
We’re already dead  
We’re already dead

Pete pulled away from Patrick and stood up. He turned Patrick around and wrapped his arms around him and started grinding again. Patrick wrapped his free arm back around Pete’s neck.

You had me in a trance  
My end of days  
I’m where the worms crawl  
and dead people play  
Now I know it’s my soul that is fading  
Fading, decaying, pushing up daisies

Patrick dropped the mic, swung around, and kissed Pete. IN that moment, nothing else was there. It was only the two of them for that fraction in time, kissing away two years of sadness and anger. Everything was as it should be. Patrick pulled back and smiled dreamily up at Pete. “I need you to go back into the audience; if you don’t, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you, and this show will be a bust. So please go. I’ll have Ace come find you afterwards and bring you back to me. Okay?”

Pete kissed Patrick soft and slow once more before nodding his agreement and sprinting off stage. Ace patted Pete’s back and said, “See ya soon.”

Pete stopped at the door that led back into the audience. He took a few breaths to calm down and prepare for the onslaught of questions that were about to be thrown at him; then he headed back to his seat.

“The fuck?” Everyone yelled at him.

Pete’s response came out in a rush. “I needed to see him. I needed… I dunno. I can’t explain it. I just…” Pete closed his eyes and took another deep breath before continuing his answer, slowing down his words. “I needed to set things right, so I went and apologized. That was the adult thing to do.”

“Judging by that display a moment ago, that wasn’t the only ‘adult’ thing you did.”

Pete punched Brendon’s arm for his smartass quip, then smirked at him.

“So listen, thanks for coming to support me today; it means the world to me. But after the show, I’m…”

“Vas a hacer más cosas de adultos con Patrick,” Gabe asked.

“Sí, Puto, me cogeré a Patrick después.”

Brendon and Gabe applauded Pete’s perfect Spanish. Pete took a bow. “Thank you, thank you. I told you I took a shit ton of Spanish. But seriously, after the show: Patrick.”

Everyone nodded. “Hey, you graduated. You can celebrate however the hell you want. You earned it,” Travie said. “Now, just up so I can hear the fucking band!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics from "Zombie Dance" by Escape the Fate.
> 
> I absolutely love this song. And if you've never heard it, you should check it out. It's upbeat and dancey; it's totally perfect for Patrick at the moment of this chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying the story. Feel free to leave feedback.


	20. Chapter 20

Pete was sitting in the lounge of the Trowenhurst bus, catching up with the guys, and waiting for Patrick to finish showering and changing.

“Dude, we were seriously gonna hunt you down and kick your fucking ass after you ran away. The only fucking thing that stopped us was Ace,” Bob said before scarfing down some Taco Bell.

“Yea, Ace is scary,” Matt added. “But as it turns out, you leaving was _actually_ a good thing.”

“Mmhmm,” Jack said around a bite of taco, then said, “Turns out that people had been scouting us for a while, but Patrick’s grabby hands stopped them from talking to us.”

“Yup,” Alex said, eating his food while sitting on Jack’s lap, one arm around his shoulders. “Once Patrick turned it down a notch; aka, when you bolted, I was getting calls left and right for record deals.”

“We’ve been going around talking to them for about six months now, doing shows along the way. Patrick’s already told us that there are a few he’ll refuse because of certain terms. He wants all of us to get equal treatment; a few offers have been very Patrick-centric” Jack said before kissing Alex’s cheek. Alex smiled at Jack and cuddled down.

“Wow, that’s awesome for you guys, and of Patrick,” Pete said with a smile.

“Yea,” Rylan agreed. “We’ve got a couple more to talk to before we sit down together and make a decision.”

“So, Pete, now that you’re done with school and have reunited with Lover Boy, are you gonna stick around? Maybe hit the road with us,” Bob asked.

“I uh,” Pete sighed. “No, see I, uh. I have this job interview in New York City next week at this record label; it’s called Decaydance Records. They’re a smaller company, but they have an eclectic assortment of some amazing artists; the label also works with bigger companies. If I get this job, I’d be working soundboards and helping to produce. My band may not have worked out, but I have the experience to help other artists soar. I’ll be leaving for New York the day after tomorrow; and I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be back.”

“Sounds amazing,” Patrick said.

Pete froze, eyes like saucers as he turned around. There stood Patrick, who Pete hadn’t even known was out of the shower. Patrick, who was standing in the bathroom doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist, using another to dry his drippy hair, while steam billowed out around him. Patrick, who Pete hadn’t told about New York yet.

“I, uh. Patrick, I was going to tell you,” Pete stammered around the words. He really had planned on telling Patrick. It just seemed to Pete that naked and sweaty was not the time to do it.

“That’s cool. It’s fine, Pete, really. I’m happy for you. I hope you get the job. You’d be an amazing producer,” Patrick said, tilting his head and smiling a too wide to be completely okay with what he’d just heardsmile.

“Patrick, I…”

Patrick shushed Pete. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. This label, what’s it called? Decaydance? They’d be stupid to not hire you. Now, come to bed, and let me enjoy this last night with you,” Patrick purred, holding out his hand.

“Everyone got their earplugs?” Bob’s words oozed sarcasm as he barked out a laugh.

Patrick threw the wet towel in his hand at Bob’s head, it smacked Bob the face and wrapped around his neck.

“Come on, Pete,” Patrick said, wiggling his fingers at Pete impatiently. Pete grabbed Patrick’s hand and let him lead them to the big bedroom. Patrick closed the door and locked it. He turned around let the towel around his hips fall to the ground. “If I only have one more night, I’m going to make it count,” Patrick cooed, sauntering to Pete, pushing him onto the bed.

Pete stared at the naked vision in front of him. Patrick was a porcelain Adonis, wet and glistening, staring right back at Pete like he was a Thanksgiving feast, and Patrick hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“How do you want me?”

“Huh?” Pete’s brain wasn’t caught up yet. He was still stuck on, _Holy shit, Patrick’s naked again. Yipee!_

“I want you to have the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had; I want it to be life altering. You know I can shape shift. I can look any way your little mortal heart could ever possibly want me to look. I can be Johnny Depp or Ashlee Simpson or anyone in-between. Tonight, I am your deepest desire come true. Just tell me how you want me.”

Pete knew exactly what he wanted without a second thought. “Can you look like Professor Stump from my first day of Rock Comp class? He’s my deepest desire come true. Can you do that?”

Patrick’s eyes widenedand his skin turned blue and scaly. Patrick blinked at Pete like he hadn’t understood what he’d just said. “What?”

Pete chuckled. “Why did you turn blue? Like, why do you do that whenever you’re freaked out, or whatever?”

Patrick blinked a couple more times before he changed back to how he’d been. “I, uh, um… It uh, takes some control. So, when I, uh. When I’m caught off guard, or my emotions are too strong, my appearance takes a back seat temporarily. I can usually catch it pretty quick; most people just think they’re eyes are playing tricks on them.”

“You don’t say? Silly people, everyone knows that Patrick’s turn blue on occasion,” Pete joked.

Patrick smiled and flashed blue again. He growled then flashed back.

Pete smiled his biggest, toothy grin at Patrick. “So I catch you off guard, do I? Pete said it low and suggestive.

Patrick blinked a few more times and nodded. “Yea, uh, yea.”

Pete stood and gently ran the knuckle of his finger across Patrick’s left cheek. Patrick closed his eyes and held his breath. Pete leaned in and kissed down Patrick’s neck. “Do I make you nervous?”

Patrick gulped and nodded. Pete ran his finger down Patrick’s face and chest, tracing his finger around Patrick’s nipples. He moved his hands further down Patrick and dropped to his knees. “Do I give you intense feelings?” Pete emphasized each syllable of the last words then wrapped his mouth around the head of Patrick’s cock.

Patrick made some garbled sound and turned full half-breed. Pete smiled and put his hands on Patrick’s ass, pushing him further into Pete’s mouth. Patrick shuddered. “Fuck, Pete.”

Pete swirled his tongue along Patrick’s cock until his mouth was empty again, then stared up at Patrick; beautiful, blue, winged Patrick. “I retract my previous statement. This is my deepest desire: You like this. You look so good in blue. You’re absolutely perfect, Patrick.”

Patrick dropped to his knees and looked into Pete’s eyes. “But Pete, I have wings, and a tail, and and and scales. Have you seen my scales? I’m, I’m, I’m…”

“Unique? One-of-a-kind? Your own species? Yea, I know. And yes, I’ve seen your scales. Doesn’t mean you’re not the hottest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. It doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you every single day for two fucking years. It doesn’t mean that I’m not crazy in love with you, even though I’m still so fucking mad at you. But the point is: I will _never_ find another person like you. So I need you all to myself.”

“You’re going to New York,” Patrick choked out on a sob, his voice breaking, deceiving the ambiguous look on his face.

“Listen, Patrick, I don’t know what’s going to happen in New York. They may very well decide I’m not what they are looking for. I could spend the next few years flipping burgers while I try to get my foot in the door somewhere. I may never even get my foot in the door. What I’m trying to say is: the future is uncertain. But no matter what happens past today, you’re always gonna be under my skin; no one will ever quite be you. And maybe, just maybe, if we’re lucky, and whatever forces out there in the universe decide it should be so, we’ll find each other again. And if we do, nothing will ever be able to break us apart again. I mean, third time _is_ the charm, right?”

Patrick crashed his lips into Pete’s and mumbled his approval. “Need you. Need fuck. Hungry. Horny. Gimme.” Patrick ripped Pete’s shirt off over his head. “Need pants off. Need you naked.” Patrick started unbuttoning Pete’s pants but stopped and stared at his chest. He raised one of his hands and traced them along the scars on Pete’s chest. “Mine?” Patrick questioned, looking up at Pete.

Pete placed his hand over Patrick’s. “Yours.” He stood up and chuckled. “All yours.”

Patrick licked his lips and scrambled to get Pete naked. Once his pants were off, Patrick pushed Pete back onto the bed and pounced on him. Pete wrapped Patrick in his arms. He kissed Patrick and melted into it. When his eyes opened again, Patrick was normal looking again.

“Hey, I like the blue,” Pete protested with a pout.

“Wings and tail get in the way,” Patrick mumbled between nips of Pete’s skin.

“Yea, but… Oh.” Pete’s protests were lost with Patrick’s touches. Patrick was warm against Pete. Patrick’s lips were soft and moist along his skin, leaving trails of embers under Pete’s skin, ready to ignite whenever Patrick chose. Pete maneuvered his body in a way that would allow Patrick the most access to every part of him. Pete needed this contact with Patrick before he left for NYC.

“Pete, please,” Patrick pleaded, wiggling down onto Pete’s lap. “Do that thing to me that no one else ever has.”

“ ’Sthat?” Pete pressed fervent kisses to Patrick’s shoulder.

“Make me cum,” Patrick purred into Pete’s ear, nipping at the lobe before pulling away. Patrick was blushing hard; his body was pink and adorable.

“You’d never…”

Patrick bit his lip and shook his head. “I live off of making others collapse in ecstasy. So in a way, I get off on that. But no one’s ever really thought about me once they’re done. Either that or I run away, pleasantly full and fully sated. So when you made me… you know… that was new for me. I’d never actually experienced that before, and you just kept doing it. Then it was gone, you were gone, and it went back to business as usual for me. But no one else has ever been quite as tasty or satisfying as you.”

Pete blinked at Patrick. “I should totally be weirded out right now, but I’m not. Actually, I think I’m even more turned on. That’s… fuck, Patrick.”

“Yes, please.”

Pete flipped the two of them in one swift movement. Patrick giggled.

“I want to do this properly, if only this once, okay? Let me take the reins.”

Patrick nodded. Pete licked a finger and moved it down near Patrick’s entrance, circling around and nudging his opening. When Patrick was keening for more, that’s when Pete finally stuck his finger in, wiggling it ever so slightly, exploring until he found Patrick’s sweet spot.

Once Patrick was relaxed enough, Pete slid in another finger, scissoring his fingers and stretching Patrick, watching and waiting for him to come undone. When Pete stuck in a third finger, he knew Patrick wasn’t quite ready for it yet, but he stuck it in anyway. Patrick gasped and writhed down on Pete’s fingers, enjoying the delicious burn of the pull.

“Now. Need, Now. Pete, please?”

Pete wiggled his fingers inside Patrick while he leaned down, trailing kisses to Patrick’s chest and teasing Patrick’s nipples with his tongue.

“No, Pete, I need… Fuck.”

“I know what you need, Patrick. Now relax and let me lead, like you promised.”

Patrick mewled and gasped. “Peeete.”

Pete pulled his fingers out and kissed Patrick until he was silent. “Good boy.” Pete sat back up, aligned himself properly and slid into Patrick. Patrick’s eyes widenedand his breathing quickened. Pete held his breath for a moment, savoring this, taking it all in. Pete had dreamt about this for two years. He’d imagined this scenario thousands of times in Patrick’s absence. He’d memorized every little detail; every touch, every movement, every brush of a finger. Pete had grown confident in his ability to please Patrick, even if it had only been in his head. He used that confidence to work on Patrick, to make his toes curl. Yet the sight, sounds, and feel of Patrick was so much better than what he’d imagined in his head.

Pete was moving at an achingly slow pace teasing Patrick, torturing himself, all to make Patrick writhe. Patrick was glorious and beautiful. His skin rapidly switched between pale and blue several times before it settled on a translucent pale with swirls of the lightest blue. It was perfect.

“I need… Please. Please, Pete.” Patrick’s voice was soft and broken.

Pete nodded and quickened the momentum of his hips, finding the spot that made Patrick’s breath hitch almost immediately. Pete lifted Patrick’s ass up just enough so that he was angled perfectly to hit Patrick’s sweet spot every time. Patrick’s back arched up and was muttering… something. Gibberish. Nonsensical ramblings with Pete’s named woven through.

“Pete, oh God, Pete… I’m gonna,” Patrick bit his bottom lip and keened so beautifully, the perfect note. Pete felt a familiar warmth spreading out from his belly. His hips responded and erratically snapped into Patrick.

“Yes, there. Pete. Pete, please. Pleasepleasepleasepetepetepete.”

Pete wrapped a hand around Patrick and stroked him once, twice, three times and Patrick spilled into Pete’s hand; his eyes locked with Pete’s, filled with astonishment and wonder. Patrick closed his eyes for two seconds; when they opened again, Pete saw old Patrick again. The playful seductor that had captured Pete’s heart was staring back at him. Pete grinned at him.

“Let me,” Patrick said, reaching his hands up toward Pete’s forehead. It wasn’t so much a command as Patrick asking permission to, whatever. At that point, Pete would’ve let Patrick do just about anything. Pete nodded his permission, closed his eyes, and leaned down. Patrick pressed his fingertips to the pressure points around Pete’s forehead. Little sparks went off behind Pete’s eyelids and shot straight through him like lightening, leaving pockets of sparks along the nerve endings in Pete’s body, intensifying the feelings that were already growing. Patrick hummed, and Pete could hear instructions once again. “ _lookatmenowhereelsebutme_ ”

Patrick stared into Patrick’s impassioned eyes, and he felt like there were magnets holding his gaze there. Patrick held his gaze while he leaned down and whispered, “Tá mé ocras . Tabhair dom mo bia.” The sparks ignitedand Pete’s orgasm exploded through him like fireworks going off all over his body. Pete’s hips stuttered to a halt, and he collapsed on top of Patrick, whispering his name like a private prayer.

The next little while, laying there with Patrick seemed like an instant and an eternity all at once. Pete lost track of time and anything else that wasn’t Patrick. Patrick was everything. After some time had passed, and the last of Pete’s orgasm had faded, Patrick ran his hands through Pete’s hair and placed his thumb over Pete’s third eye and said “Dún.” After that, Pete heard a faint fluttering sound, and then warmth enveloped him; it was warm and welcoming. Pete sighed with the deepest contentment and was soon fast asleep on Patrick.


	21. Chapter 21

Pete slept the best he had in months, maybe ever. The first time he woke up, he was happy; he was sated; and he was a little cold. He nuzzled into Patrick’s neck. He tried to pull up the covers, but what he grabbed didn’t feel like cloth, but soft, thin, flesh. Pete opened his eyes a little. Once they were uncrossed and focused, he realized he was lying on blue skin. He glanced back behind him; he was pulling on one of Patrick’s wings. Pete let go and nuzzled in closer to Patrick. Pete smiled stupidly and closed his eyes. As he was drifting off to sleep again, he felt Patrick’s wings wrap around him, cocooning him.

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The next time Pete woke up, the wings were gone, and he was under a blanket. Patrick was gone too, but Pete could hear him talking with the guys in the lounge, shushing them and threatening bodily harm if the woke Pete up. Pete heard footsteps padding back towards him. When he heard the door open and close, he closed his eyes and did his best to look like he was still sleeping.

“Good morning, Pete. Open your eyes; I know you’re awake.”

Pete opened one eye and peeked over his shoulder at Patrick. “How?”

“Your energy is different. More… electric, sexual.”

Pete was going to argue, but he was very aware of the hard-on he had that was pressing into the mattress.

“Cheat,” Pete pouted.

Patrick chuckled softly. “No, just hungry. I have an insatiable appetite when it comes to you.” Patrick flashed his Sex God smile at Pete and jumped on top of him. “Feed me.”

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The last time Pete woke up, the clock next to the bed blared 9:48 in bold, red letters at him. He looked out the window, and warm sunlight hit his face. He groaned. His stomach growled. An arm wrapped around his side, and soft, tender kisses were splayed across his shoulder. “Hungry?”

Pete yawned before he could say anything, but his stomach growled again, answering Patrick’s question. Patrick chuckled. “mmkay. I’ll go check how far out we are from Chicago. We can get some real food there. I can grab you some pop tarts or Rice Krispie treats to tide you over, if you want.

“Yes,” Pete mumbled.

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“Ok,” Patrick said as he climbed out of the bed. He slid on some pants and stepped towards the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Pete mumbled his agreement and nuzzled further into his pillow. “Wait!” His eyes snapped open, and he sat upright, the sheet falling down and exposing most of his naked body. “Chicago?”

Patrick stopped with his hand on the door and nodded. “Your friends left a note with Ace last night.” Patrick turned and stared at Pete. He licked his lips as his eyes glanced over Pete. “It, uh. It said not to worry about your shit. That they’d, they… Um, your friends would make sure it got back.” Patrick took a deep breath and moved his focus to the clock on the desk before continuing. “It also said, ‘Have fun and break a leg at your interview, Asshat,’.”

Pete nodded and let the information sink in. “Okay,” he said as he rubbed the last of the sleep out of his eyes. His stomach growled again.

Patrick laughed. “I’ll be right back.”

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Pete and Patrick sat in the corner booth at Three Aces that they had been in years before, only this time it was during regular business hours. They sat across from each other, hands entwined. For a while, neither of them said anything; they took in the sight of each other. It was only when their food arrived, when the intensity of the moment had been broken, that they spoke again.

“I didn’t think you ate, you know,” Pete said around a bite of pizza, gesturing at the steaming food.

“I eat food; I just don’t _have_ to eat it. However, in a situation such as this, I will definitely indulge.” Patrick’s eyes widened as he shoved half of a slice of pizza in his mouth to emphasize his point. Pete pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.

“Wha wvas vfat fr,” Patrick asked with his mouth still full of food.

“Proof that you actually eat food. I remember a conversation with your band about you not eating.”

Patrick shrugged and nodded, shoving an escaping string of extra gooey cheese back into his mouth, and slurped his fingers clean. Pete took another photo. Patrick cocked his head to the side, licking at his chin to attempt to get the bit of sauce that had dripped down.

Pete laughed and took another photo. “That one’s for blackmail, you know, for once you become all rich and famous.” Pete showed the image to Patrick and giggled uncontrollably at Patrick’s facial response.

“I look like a total doofus.”

“Like I said: blackmail,” Pete took one last affectionate look at the image of Patrick: eyes crossed, nose wrinkled in concentration, tongue out and curved, skin slightly pink, and a big glob of red sauce on his chin.

Pete went to put his phone away, but had one more idea before he did that. He got up and slid in right next to Patrick. He held the phone out in front of them. He went to kiss Patrick’s cheek, but Patrick turned his head, his lips meeting Pete’s, right as Pete snapped the photo. Pete looked at the result, Pete kissing a slightly blue tinted Patrick. “That one’s just for you,” Patrick whispered. Pete turned and kissed Patrick’s cheek before he got up and slid back into his own seat. He put his phone away and started eating another slice of pizza.

“So,” Patrick said, dabbing his chin and the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “Are you excited for the interview next week?”

Pete slurped up some cheese and swallowed a mouth full of food before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Oh yea, totally. But, it’s scary. I mean, that job is such a longshot. I can barely comprehend the fact that I even _got_ the interview.”

Patrick nodded. “Yea, but it’s pretty amazing though. You must have something they want.”

Pete nodded and bit into more pizza. “Let’s hope so,” he said, mouth full of food.

Patrick smiled again. “Stop doubting yourself, Pete. I really meant what I said earlier; you’ll be an amazing producer. Any label would be lucky to have you, especially now that you have all that nifty, new, college-taught information.”

Pete swallowed and stared across the table; he smiled adoringly at the man opposite him. “I’m going to miss this. I mean, I just got you back, and now I’m heading to New York, away from it again.”

Patrick grabbed Pete’s hand again. “If we’re lucky…”

Pete nodded. “Yea.” He squeezed Patrick’s hand before leaning across the table and kissing Patrick. “If we’re lucky.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Pete and Patrick were standing in O’Hare International Airport, in front of the gate to Pete’s flight, making out like a couple of teenagers with their arms wrapped around each other. They’d been standing there like that for close to 20 minutes, and really, people were starting to stare. Neither of them cared.

“ _Final boarding call for Flight 427 to New York City_.”

They hesitantly unlocked their lips and let their arms drop. Pete took a slow, shaky breath before leaning down and grabbing his bag, flinging it over his shoulder. “I gotta go.”

Patrick nodded. “I know. Kick that interview’s ass.” He smiled his most charming smile. Pete felt like a child leaving his parent. Tears were falling from his eyes, yet Patrick looked confident and perfectly okay. Pete nodded. He turned around and took five steps toward the gate, then he turned and stared at Patrick again. “I love you, Patrick.”

Patrick’s façade broke, and he ran to Pete, tears now falling. Patrick kissed Pete and wrapped his arms around him. “I love you too, Pete.” Patrick stepped back, wiping tears away. “Love you too.”

With that, Pete smiled, nodded, and headed off.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 Pete had been in the air long enough that he was now on his phone flipping through the photos he’d taken jut a few hours before. He stopped on the photo of Patrick’s spaghetti face and grinned at it. Then he flipped to the last photo, the one of the two of them. Patrick looked so casual and comfortable. Pete looked happy in the photo, genuinely happy. The two of them looked like they fit together perfectly, like they were made for each other; it was as if they were the last two pieces of the same puzzle that were now being put into place. In that moment Pete made a major decision: if he hadn’t been offered the job at Decaydance within a month – the exact amount of time he had before his money would run out – he was going to leave New York City to be with Patrick. He’d worry about a job after that.

Pete nodded decidedly before he put in some earphones. He pushed play on his iPod, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

Pete had been in a nice hotel room in NYC for five days (a graduation present from his former Arma Angelus bandmates) preparing for the interview at Decaydance Records. Pete’s version of “preparing” was staring into a mirror while answering generic interview questions then pacing around the room trying to figure out how to answer them better. He’d been doing that since he’d checked in to th hotel. He figured it was better to obsess over the impending job interview than to obsess over missing Patrick. Now, the day had finally come: interview day. Pete dressed semi-professionally: nice black slacks and a long-sleeved, black button up shirt, but he put on his bright, blue converse sneakers and a blue vest to add a little rebelliousness to his look. He slapped on some cologne, checked himself over in the mirror, then walked out the door. He was twelve steps down the hall before he realized he’d forgotten his portfolio and information he needed for the interview and ran back to his room. Once those things were securely in hand, he walked out again and headed to Decaydance.

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Pete hated waiting; he’d always hated waiting. He didn’t have the patience for it, especially in stressful situations that allowed him time to silently second-guess  and belittle himself. This happened to be one of those situations; he was sitting in a lobby with six other people –three guys, three girls--- all of whom looked more suited for the job, at least in Pete’s eyes. Pete looked, and felt, like a dumb kid who was only there as some sort of a joke.

One-by-one the others were all called into the interview room: Bob Morris, Alexander Deleon, Greta Salpeter, Jenna McDougall, Brian Diaz. It was finally down to Pete and an orange-haired girl that Pete had managed to strike up a conversation with halfway through the wait; Hayley Williams was her name. She was cute, and she and Pete had a lot on common. She was the type of girl Pete could’ve seen himself dating a few years before, hell, even a few weeks ago. Pete was willing to admit to himself that if he’d met the feisty, orange-haired, punk girl a few weeks ago, he would have definitely asked her out.

In the hour that Pete and Hayley had gotten to know each other, Pete learned that Hayley was originally from down south and was the front woman for a punk band, Paramore. However, she was trying to get a job as an assistant to Decaydance for a little extra cash and experience while her band regrouped and figured out their next move. She was smart, funny, and just the right amount of rebellious. They’d just made plans to grab dinner that night when she was called into her interview. They exchanged phone numbers, and then Pete wished her luck as she went into the office.

Pete sat in the lobby quietly while the well-dressed flashed his brightest, flirtiest smiles Pete’s way. Pete pretended that he couldn’t see him. Pete picked at his thumbs and chewed on his nails, all while his brain was convincing him that he didn’t have a chance in hell and to leave while he still had his dignity. Pete had convinced himself that his brain was right and was about to stand and leave when the interviewer’s door opened and Hayley came bouncing out, beaming at everyone. “Call me after, we’ll have that dinner,” she yelled back at him as she exited the room. The secretary pouted at Pete. The interviewer called Pete in, and Pete reluctantly walked into the office.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, Mr. Wentz, I can’t tell you how excited I was to receive your application,” Jonathan Daniel said. “I was a fan of Arma Angelus when you guys were still together. I frequently travelled to Chicago to catch your band’s shows. So as soon as I realized that it was you, well, I had to offer you an interview.”

Pete relaxed a bit. If this was someone who was familiar with him, he might actually have a shot.

“Actually,” Jonathan continued, “I already have it approved with my partner that if you came in for the interview, you’d be offered the job on the spot.”

“Wait, what?” Pete couldn’t have possibly heard that correctly.

Jonathan chuckled. “We at Decaydance Records would like to formally offer you a job on our production team, Mr. Wentz.”

“Oh my God, yes! I mean, I accept. Thank you so much, Mr. Daniel.”

“Please, call me Jonathan.”

Pete grinned and nodded. “Thank you, Jonathan. I can’t believe this!”

Jonathan held out his hand and Pete shook it. “Welcome aboard, Pete. Glad to have you. You can start Monday. Here’s your paperwork. Just bring it back in with you Monday, completely filled out of course. You’ll start out as an assistant for the first few weeks until you get the hang of things here, but you’ll be a full producer after that, with major promotion potential starting after six months.” Jonathan handed a stack of paperwork to Pete. Pete thanked him again and left the meeting grinning so wide that his face hurt. Pete didn’t care; he had the job.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Pete and Hayley toasted their new jobs at dinner that night. Pete was excited to hear that Hayley would also be on the production team, although he’d be her boss in a few weeks. The two spent the second half of dinner learning more about each other. Hayley told Pete about her boyfriend and more about her band. Pete told Hayley about Arma, college, and a little about Patrick, without actually mentioning his name. By the end of dinner, Pete and Hayley knew that they would be best friends and attached at the hip from that day on. They hugged and parted ways. Pete couldn’t wait to start work.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

They only thing Pete had forgotten to do in all the excitement was to let everyone else know that he’d gotten the job. Once he was back in his hotel room, and out of his interview clothes, he sat down at the desk with his laptop on it and he either called, texted, or emailed all of his friends and family to relay the good news. He saved Patrick for last. He didn’t know how he should tell him, partially due to the fact that Pete didn’t want to face the reality of the situation. He had an amazing job, but now things were going to be difficult to figure out with Patrick.

Pete threw his phone down onto the desk, leaned back, put his hands over his eyes, and screamed out some of the building frustration. He didn’t know how else to deal with the ambivalence inside him. Why couldn’t things just be easy for once?

When his phone rang, he picked it up and answered without checking to see who it was. “Hello?”

“Congratulation, Mr. Music Producer.”

Pete sat up, completely alert, and stayed silent.

“I told you, you’d get the job. I’m so proud of you.”

“How’d you know?”

“Let’s just say a little birdy texted me with the news and said that you’d probably be an asshat and not tell me yourself.”

“Damn, Brendon. I was going to tell you, Patrick. I just hadn’t figured out how to tell you yet.”

Patrick laughed low and seductive on the other end of the phone. It made Pete’s blood hot, and he wanted to pounce through the line onto Patrick.

“Don’t injure yourself, Pete. Even I can’t do stuff like that.”

“I thought you couldn’t get into my head anymore.”

“I said I couldn’t control you anymore, but I can still hear you if I listen hard enough.”

Pete smiled. He missed Patrick. He didn’t know how he was going to deal with all of it. “I miss you, Patrick.”

“I miss you too, Pete. Just ask my band. They’re stuck on the bus with me, and get to see my moping.”

“The little fucker won’t stop sulking. He’s eating all of my Taco Bell!” Pete laughed at Jack’s voice in the background. All the others on Patrick’s bus started yelling their gripes at him. Patrick shushed them, then Pete heard a door close.

“Sorry about that, but I guess it does get my point across.”

“So, you’ve been eating actual food?”

“Among other things,” Patrick said, then got very quiet for a few seconds, and then spoke again, only quieter. “But only because I have to.”

“I know; I get it, Patrick. I promise, I understand it this time. No more running away. I’m just stuck in New York now.”

“Like I said,” Patrick’s voice went from sad to seductive in half a second. “Congratulations, Mr. Music Producer”

Pete heard some clanging, a think, the sound of a lock, some soft shuffling sounds, and then heavy breathing. “What are you wearing, Pete?”

Pete’s body reacted immediately, and Pete jumped up and ran to the bed. “Are we really going to do this?”

“Mmm, yes, please,” Patrick purred. “I need this, you.”

“I haven’t done this in a long time, so bear with me,” Pete said as he laid back on the bed. He pulled his shirt up and stuck his hand down his pants and under his boxers. He moaned a little when he got to his erection.

“What are you wearing, Pete?”

“Pajama bottoms, boxers, and a Bowie t-shirt I stole from your suitcase. What about you?”

“Jeans and a gray hoodie I stole from yours.”

Pete smiled affectionately.

“Pull your shirt up and rub your nipples,” Patrick’s voice emanated the confidence that he usually had on stage. Pete did as he was told and hissed at the initial contact.

“Good boy. Now, scratch your nails down your chest and get that blood going.”

Pete did; he threw his head back and moaned. “Holy fuck.” Pete took a few deep breathes and made a snap decision. “Patrick, do the hummy, buzzy, Jedi thing. Please?”

“You sure about that?”

“Do it. Do it and take control. It’ll feel a little more like you’re actually here that way.”

Pete heard something that sounded like complete gibberish from Patrick’s end, and then his body ignited; humming and buzzing and ready for anything.

“Focus on my words, Pete. Okay?”

Pete nodded.

“Open your mind, focus on my words, and let your body relax and do what I tell it to. It’ll be weird at first; your body moving on its own, but it’s just me telling you what to do, okay?”

Pete nodded again.

“Okay, then, close your eyes, focus on my voice and my words. Let your mind wander to me. Can you see me yet?”

Pete was confused by that last part, but he closed his eyes anyway. He let his thoughts drift towards his memories of Patrick. Soon, his memories were being replaced by images of the big bedroom on Patrick’s bus. Patrick was lying down on the bed wearing one of Pete’s gray hoodies. The hoodie was pulled up enough to show off Patrick’s stomach. He was wearing black skinny jeans that were unbuttoned, unzipped, and Patrick had one hand under the edge of his pants while the other held a phone to his ear.

“Good. Good. Hi there. Can you see me clearly now?”

Pete sat up and opened his eyes. The image was gone and the room was dark and empty. Pete was even more confused now.

“No. Pete, close your eyes and lay down dammit. It’s the only way this’ll work. You wanted it to feel like I’m there with you; this will give us that illusion. Now close your eyes and focus back on me.”

Pete relaxed, laid back down, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on Patrick. Soon enough, the image of Patrick slowly transitioned back in. “What’s going on, Patrick?”

Patrick’s hair changed into a neon pink Mohawk. “What just changed, Pete?”

“That’s not a good color on you. I mean, at least do blue or green spikes. Even purple would work. Now what the fuck is going on?”

Patrick giggled and his hair changed back. “I was checking the signal. I wanted to make sure that this could actually work while you were awake.”

“What would work?”

“You remember how I told you that I used to go into your dreams and play around? This is the same concept, only slightly different. I wasn’t actually 100 percent sure that it would work, but… damn, Pete, you look good in my shirt. Let me try something; don’t freak out.”

Pete nodded right before the hand on his chest moved down under his boxers, but it wasn’t Pete doing it. He did his best to stay calm and remind himself that he wasn’t in a horror movie. Patrick laughed; apparently, he was still listening to Pete’s thoughts. Pete’s index finger caressed the length of his shaft. Pete could see Patrick doing the same thing. It was weird, really weird, but hot and oh so good.

“Perfect,” Patrick sighed. He grabbed himself and stroked lazily. Pete saw it all, like he was standing in the corner watching it all happen. At the same time, his hand was doing the same as Patrick’s hand. If it weren’t for the calluses being in the wrong places, it would be exactly like Patrick being there and doing it himself.

“Now, show me what you want, Pete.”

“I want…”

“No, Pete. Show me. Picture what you want in your head.”

Pete let his mind expand on what Patrick was already showing him; Pete imagined himself walking through the bedroom door and closing it behind him, stripping naked and crawling onto the bed, then wrapping his mouth around Patrick’s hard cock. He imagined gripping Patrick’s wrists and pinning them to the bed, rendering Patrick immobile. He imagined teasing, licking, and sucking on Patrick until he was teetering on the edge, then looking up into Patrick’s gorgeous swirly eyes and seeing him fall to pieces as his release hit. Pete imagined Patrick’s skin turning blue as he swallowed licked every last drop. Pete imagined Patrick whispering “Pete” as his he came down from his release.. No, that really was Patrick. Pete’s imagination stopped and came back to reality. Pete kept his eyes closed and listened to the exquisite sound of it all.  Patrick was panting and whispering Pete’s name over and over again, swearing in between.

Pete’s visual disappeared, so he opened his eyes and smiled satisfactorily, but the grin didn’t stay there long. Patrick had gained some composure back and said, “Close your eyes again. Come back to me, Pete. We are not done yet.”

Pete didn’t immediately follow Patrick’s instructions. He knew he still had a little power right now, and he knew that not listening would get Patrick a little angry; angry Patrick did amazing things to Pete.

“CLOSE THEM,” Patrick commanded. There he was: commanding, control freak Patrick. Pete closed his eyes this time. It took a few minutes to get it back, but the live image of Patrick came back again. Patrick looked wrecked; that brought the smug grin back to Pete’s face. He loved knowing that it was him who did that to Patrick, even if it wasn’t in person. Patrick was still panting when he whispered, “Your turn, Wentz.”

Pete’s head immediately fogged up. He could hear Patrick singing and his body hummed with anticipation. He felt like he was in a dream. Patrick brought Pete’s image back into his room. Patrick pushed him on to the bed and pounced on him, sitting on Pete’s thighs. Pete could actually feel the weight of Patrick on him, even though he knew Patrick wasn’t there.

Patrick traced the scars on Pete’s chest and mumbled, “Mine,” before he leaned down and ran his tongue along Pete’s chest. Pete’s body bucked up, in the images and in reality. It felt so real; all the sensations and the heat of Patrick’s body, it was all there. Patrick grinned before crawling up Pete’s body a little ways and stopping. Patrick reached back with one of his hands and wriggled his fingers into his ass, scissoring and stretching himself until he was open enough for his liking. Patrick smirked down at Pete, and it was suddenly as if Pete was really there; he was seeing Patrick’s thoughts through the imaginary version of himself in Patrick’s bedroom. Pete’s head was starting to hurt from the idea of it, but then Patrick was kissing Pete’s lips and lowering himself down onto Pete, moaning into Pete’s mouth. Patrick sat up and rolled his hips in the most deliciously obscene ways. Pete bit his bottom lip and watched Patrick move.

Pete was getting closer; so damn close. Patrick locked eyes with Pete, and Pete heard the instructions in his head: “ _upandrightfasthardcumformecumformecumformecumforme_ ”

Pete did; he thrust up to the right, fast and hard. He did it once, twice, and then he was cumming, Patrick’s name spilling out of his lips. Patrick smiled once more, and then Pete back into his own room, but watching Patrick panting on the bed, hand down his pants. Pete was hot and sticky. Pete could still feel everything that had just happened in their heads; his stomach was covered in his own release. Pete just didn’t care. That was so unreal, and more real than anything the two of them had ever done.

“You need to keep… keep this line open Pa… Patrick. We need to be able to do that whenever we have the chance.

“Agreed,” Patrick panted. “I didn’t know I could even do that until you… nnng. Now that I know I can, we can, fuck. We’re doing that again. That has some amazing potential. Fuck, Pete. That was amazing.”

Pete nodded before his eyes went dark. He freaked out a little before he realized that he wasn’t actually with Patrick. He opened his eyes and looked over at the clock on the stand next to the bed: 1:18 a.m. “I gotta go to bed, Patrick.”

“I know; me too. Big show tomorrow. Let’s do that again. Soon. Okay?”

Pete nodded and muttered, “Yea.”

“Awesome. Goodnight, Pete. Good luck at work.”

“Goodnight, Patrick. Kick those shows’ asses.”

“I will. ‘night.”

The line clicked off and Patrick’s end went dead. Pete put the phone down and sighed contentedly. Maybe it wouldn’t be bad after all. He placed his hand down on his chest, forgetting the mess that lied there. He immediately yanked up and swore under his breath. He got up and headed off to the shower. “Not quite as bad as no Patrick,” he said. “Yea, not quite as bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for the delay in this chapter. College life is starting to kick my ass, and I have been swamped with homework, tests, and studying. On top of that, I wanted to make sure to keep the quality of this story up, no rushing or anything. I'm hoping to be able to put out a chapter a week until it's done, but it may be every couple weeks. So please have a little patience with me. I promise an epic ending. I'm excited for everyone to find out how this all ends.
> 
> \-----------------------------------
> 
> Anyway, as always, thanks for reading. Any and all input is greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Until next time XOXO


	23. Chapter 23

Pete had been at Decaydance for six months now; he’d been a full producer for four and a half of those months. Pete and Hayley worked on the same team, so they were nearly inseparable. The two had been bouncing ideas off each other for her band’s new album. They were both excited for it. Hayley had told Pete that she hadn’t been that confident about the direction of Paramore in a very long time. She was even getting ready to cut her hours at work to focus on the group. Pete was thrilled for her, but he knew he’d miss having her around all the time. She made the time away from Patrick bearable.

Pete’s dreams about Patrick were back and happened at least 2-3 times a week. They were the types he’d had back at DePaul: extremely lifelike. Pete was sure that they were Patrick’s way of getting sustenance and, also, to make up for both the lack of closeness between them and the lack of phone calls. They kept in touch, but it was mostly through texts, emails, and five-minute phone conversations. The calls were just enough to hear each other’s voices and make things slightly less impersonal. Once every couple weeks, they were able to have the amazing, mind meld phone sex. They were getting really good at the whole process; it made up for some of the distance, but not all of it. Pete was starting to get really lonely; he wanted to be physically in the same space as Patrick, not just in their minds.

At work, Pete was quickly making a reputation for himself. He was one of the most sought after producers. He was doing so well, in fact, that his bosses had called him into a meeting to discuss promotion opportunities for him.

Jonathan Daniel sat on the other side of his desk, across from Pete, hands folded in front of him. Next to Jonathan sat Bob McLynn, the other head at Decaydance. “Well, Pete,” Jonathan said. “I have to say, we have been tremendously impressed with everything you have done for the artists, not just here, but at our affiliates you’ve gone to.”

“Yes,” Bob agreed. “It’s quite extraordinary, really. We wish there was a way to clone you, Pete. There’s just not enough of you to go around.”

They all laughed.

“Actually, Pete, Bob and I were talking, and we think that you’re so good at this job, and well, we wonder if you’d be this good in other departments as well.”

“But I like producing, guys,” Pete calmly protested.

“We know that,” Bob said. “We were going to keep you there.”

“Yea, we just want to, um, what’s the right word here?”

“Expand?” Bob offered.

“Yes, expand,” Jonathan said animatedly. “We want ti expand your talents into a few other areas that we believe you could excel in while still keeping you in your current position.”

“That’s what she said,” Pete said with a smirk. He slouched back in his chair and clasped his hands together. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Bob and Jonathan smiled at each other, then at Pete. Jonathan continued where he left off. “You see, Pete, we want to see how you’d do in branding. We think your brain is wired perfectly for that. We also want to see how you could do in, say, A&R. You’d still be producing, but these would allow you to work with a lot of bands still, but have a few bands that you’d get to know better and specialize with them and their brand. What do you think?”

“What part of A&R?”

“Well, just like with production, you’d start out as an assistant,” Bob said. “Depending on how well you do there, you could be a manager in no time. If you’d do as well in A&R as you do where you are now, you could potentially quit production and be the A&R Director.”

Pete shook his head. “I don’t want to be director. However, branding could be fun, so could A&R. What exactly would you want me to do to get into A&R?”

“That’s simple,” Bob said. “Find us some new talent that’ll blow people’s minds; the next big thing. That shouldn’t be too hard for you considering you come into work at least three times a week jabbering about some local band you saw the night before.”

Pete couldn’t suppress the grin that was forming on his face. He sat up and leaned forward. “If I bring in ‘the next big thing,’ would you let me be their go to person? Like, the first person you’d go to for everything they’d need or want done: A&R, branding, producing, marketing, managing, everything. Would you?”

“Well, Pete, that’s a mighty big request for someone who’s only been here six months,” Bob said.

“Especially from someone who was just giving us shit about being moved out of his current department,” Jonathan added, then he looked at Pete’s grin. “You already have someone in mind, don’t you?”

Pete nodded. “Oh, do I ever! And if you wanted to sign him, I mean, them, I know exactly what you’d need to get them. I know their sound, style, stage antics, I know all of it. I know what they want, what they need, and I know exactly how to do it. You’d just have to promise me that _I_ would be the one that always gets first dibs on them.”

Bob and Jonathan leaned in close to talk privately, whispering fiercely back and forth for a few minutes. Pete sat with his fingers, toes, arms, and legs crossed while silently praying to whatever deity would listen for this to go his way. Finally, Bob and Jonathan sat up straight and looked intently at Pete. “Okay, Pete, here’s the deal: bring us a demo of this band with one studio recording and one live recording, and since you already know this band, we want some live footage of them too. If we like what we hear and see, you’ve got yourself a deal. You’ll be in charge of everything, including recruiting and helping to sign them. Deal?”

Pete jumped up out of his chair and whooped in excitement. He grabbed Bob’s hand and shook it, then Jonathan’s. “Deal. Yes! Thank you. I’ll have all of that to you first thing tomorrow.”

Pete ran out of the room and back into a sound booth with Hayley. She looked at him and beamed back at him. “Good news,” she asked.

“Potentially the best news ever.”

“Promotion?”

“Kinda, yea, I guess,” Pete said, the grin still on his face. “But if everything works out, money will be the least awesome thing about the whole deal.”

“Wow, Pete. That sounds pretty amazing. What exactly happened in there?”

Pete bit back the manic giggle long enough to explain what had just transpired in the big office.

“Wow! So, you seriously already know of a band that you’re that sure about,” Hayley asked him.

Pete grinned and nodded.

“Who are they,” Hayley asked excitedly.

Pete looked around the booth to make sure people were ignoring them (as per usual). When the coast was clear, Pete wiggled his finger at Hayley, beckoning her closer, then leaned in close to Hayley’s ear and whispered, “They’re called Trowenhurst.”

“ _TROWENHURST_?! Oh my God, Pete…”

Pete covered Hayley’s mouth and shushed her. “Quiet, HayHay.”

“Pete, Trowenhurst is _huge_! They would put this label on the map as a major competitor in the biz. But they are notorious for turning down labels. Last time I heard anything about them, they’d stopped even meeting with anyone. So what makes you think that you could convince them to sign with us?”

Pete grinned at her. “I have my ways.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later, Pete was sitting in the big office with Bob and Jonathan. Pete was leaned back in his chair, totally relaxed, with his fingers entwined and resting on his chest. The two men stared at Pete quietly for what seemed like forever. Their eyes were huge, and their jaws slightly askew. For once Pete was quiet and patient, waiting for one of his bosses to say something.

“Pete,” Bob started, but didn’t continue. He moved his jaw but no sound came out.

“What Bob is trying to say is…” Jonathan sighed, shook his head, then threw his hands in the air and shut up.

Bob ran his hand down his face, took a deep breath, and then started again. “You do know who this band is, right?”

Pete shrugged and nodded, but stayed completely quiet.

“You do know that every record label in the country has been trying to sign them for two years, right?”

Pete grinned and nodded.

Jonathan leaned forward and asked, “You know they have either turned them all down or refused to talk to them, right?”

Pete nodded silently again.

“Then what makes you think that you can convince a band with that reputation to not only meet with us, but sign here as well?”

Pete just shrugged at them and swiveled from side to side in his chair.

“God dammit, Pete, say something!” Bob yelled.

Jonathan shushed Bob. “How about you start with telling us how you got these tapes to us so fast when Trowenhurst is on the other side of the country at the moment.”

Pete cleared his throat. “I had ‘em from awhile back. The demos were being handed out by students at my graduation. The footage is from my graduation concert at ISU.”

“You took the footage yourself?” Bob asked interestedly.

“Technically, no,” Pete said, still swiveling. “My buddy Gabe did. He emailed the video to me the day after I started here.”

Bob wiped his face again. “Pete, this group is… They’re…”

“They’re exactly what we want here at Decaydance,” Jonathan interjected. “Listen, if you can help us sign Trowenhurst, you can have pretty much anything you want. You can have as much, or as little, to do with them as you want. You can even be their fucking manager if you want. You will have our full support, but only with this group, at least to start.”

Pete’s grin widened. “That’s all I ask.”

“Do you really think you can get them for us?” Bob asked.

Pete shrugged. “I’ll have a letter inviting them to meet with us typed up, printed, and on your desk by the end of the day for you to sign and send out to their manager.”

“We usually call or email our potentials. It’s easier to guarantee they will get it,” Jonathan said.

Pete nodded. “I know. Just trust me on this, okay? You guys sign what I put on your desk and I’ll have it in the mail tomorrow morning. ‘Kay?”

The two men nodded.

“Great,” Pete said, smacking his hands on the desk and pushing himself up. “See ya.”


	24. Chapter 24

Pete couldn’t sit still; he was pacing and driving all of his coworkers nuts, even Hayley. Hayley was doing her best to calm Pete down, but since Pete hadn’t told her that the past he’d told her about was with Patrick, there wasn’t much she could really do. To be honest, the whole label was buzzing about the meeting with Trowenhurst. They were due to arrive any moment, and everyone wanted a glimpse of the infamous band. That made Pete even more nervous; he knew first-hand how people were going to react to Patrick. It’d be even worse than usual due to the close proximity that everyone would be to Patrick. Although, Pete admitted, it was going to be fun watching his two very straight, married bosses squirm with desire. Pete stopped pacing and giggled.

“Pete,” Bob yelled out of the office door. Pete looked over at him. “Go pace somewhere else until we call for you. You’re making everyone else nervous.”

Pete nodded and headed back to his usual sound booth. He went into the recording area, picked up a bass and started playing. Pete had forgotten how good it felt to play. He allowed images of Patrick to float through his head. He relaxed immediately and the notes just spilled out of him. He hadn’t seen Patrick in seven months, and now, finally, he’d get to be near him; see him; touch him; smell him. He’d be a living, breathing Patrick. Pete’s body hummed and buzzed in the anticipation.

Pete stopped playing; the humming and buzzing wasn’t from anticipation. No, those were the feelings that meant Patrick was close –in the label close. Pete placed the bass back in its stand and ran for the exit, tripping over more than one chord on the way out. He ran down the maze of corridors, excusing himself when he almost trampled people to get to the front office where the meeting was going to be.

Pete knew he was getting closer to Patrick by the swarm of people in the hallways. Pete tried to squeeze through, but people weren’t budging now. He stood in place, sulking, until ten minutes later when the text he’d been waiting for arrived. “Intros passed. Talks started. Losing em. Get your ass in here ASAP Wentz.”

Pete pushed his way through the people, telling them that the bosses required his services if they refused to budge. He opened the door and rushed in, finding the room empty except Bob and Jonathan. “Where’d they go?”

“He,” Jonathan snarled the word. “excused himself to the restroom, and _he_ is almost impossible to talk to. He seems like he wants nothing to do with us or any label. I’m not even sure why he agreed to take this meeting. So, you promised that you knew what they wanted. So sit your ass down in this chair and persuade the man to sign, if you want to work with them, that is.”

Pete ran around and plopped down in the chair between Bob and Jonathan, grabbed the contract that was set on the table, and spun around. Pete looked it over and then reached around and placed it back on the table. Pete was now staring at the wall. Pete hated staring at walls.

“Pete, I don’t know how you think we usually meet with clients, but we generally face the clients and potentials when we talk to them. So turn around and face him, er, his chair.”

Pete shook his head. “Not yet. I’m waiting until he gets back in here.”

“Pete,” Jonathan growled. “stop playing around and…”

The door opened, and then the sweet, sweet voice Pete had missed so much started talking. “Sorry about that. That was very unprofessional of me. I sincerely apologize.” Patrick sounded sad.

Pete bit his lip and suppressed the urges screaming at him to pounce on Patrick.

“So, uh, I…” Patrick stuttered and stalled. Pete knew that Patrick sensed something, so he wouldn’t be able to hide his presence too long. “I, uh, I’m not too sure about some of the clauses in your offer, gentlemen. I just, uh, don’t, um…”

“Is everything alright, Mr. Stump? You seem distracted. Did something happen while you were out there? Did our receptionist proposition you? He’s harmless, really,” Bob said.

“Yea. No, he didn’t do anything. He looked a bit scared of me, to be honest. And I’m fine. I just, uh, feel… weird.”

Pete held his breath and shut down his thoughts momentarily. He’d make his big reveal in 5…

“Okay. Well listen, Mr. Stump,” Jonathan said.

. . . . . 4 . . . . .

“We think some of this meeting might be better handled by one of our new A&R people.”

. . . . . 3 . . . . .

“He’s fairly new, but don’t let that fool you. He’s one of our best.”

. . . . . 2 . . . . .

“He?” Patrick asked?

. . . . . 1 . . . . .

“Yes, Mr. Stump. He,” Bob said.

. . . . . 0 . . . . .

Pete swirled his chair around and grinned at Patrick. “Hiya, Pattycakes!”

“Pattycakes?” Bob and Jonathan asked in unison.

“Pete?” Patrick asked as he jumped up out of his chair. He leaned forward, hands clenching the edge of the table. “What the hell?”

Pete jumped up excitedly, too. “Didn’t you hear? I work in A&R now. My first assignment was to scout new talent.”

“You’re what?”

Jonathan tapped Pete’s arm. “You, uh. You know Mr. Stump?”

Pete looked down at Jonathan and nodded, smirking at the obvious blush on his face. _Patrick strikes again_ , Pete thought.

“For fuck’s sake; why the hell didn’t you tell us that? Do you realize how much simpler this whole process would’ve been?” Bob asked, blushing harder than Jonathan, Pete noticed when he looked over at him. Pete shrugged. “I wanted to surprise Patrick. If I’d told you that I knew him, you would’ve told him. But I do agree you should have called me in sooner. Based on what I saw, you guys have been pitching this all wrong. Apparently you didn’t take any of the suggestions I sent over.”

“That’s because you never sent them this morning, remember? So we only had what we always have,” Bob said through his teeth, obviously getting upset now.

“Oh, yea. I guess I kinda forgot to do that in all of today’s excitement. Sorry about that. But don’t worry, I’m here now.”

“Wait, _you_ set this up?” Patrick asked, sitting back down in his chair.

Pete turned back towards Patrick. “Sure did. So, now that we have that covered, how about I explain the actual terms of our offer.”

“Pete, this thing is already typed up and ready to go,” Patrick said.

“That’s because, as was stated just a couple minutes ago, this is a generic offer, because I apparently forgot to send these nice gentlemen, who happen to be two of the most forgiving, and completely understanding, men I have ever met, the one that you were supposed to see. You know, the one that would woo you into sealing the deal.” Pete finished by flashing a salacious grin Patrick’s way and winking.

Patrick blushed and flashed blue. Pete smiled at the gasps from his bosses and mutterings about the light playing tricks on their eyes. Patrick took a deep breath and growled, barely audible to most people, but Pete heard it. “Alright, Pete, let’s hear it. But I’m not making any promises.”

“Fair enough,” Pete replied and glanced down once more at the contract, remembering what he’d changed specifically to accommodate Trowenhurst. “Okay,” Pete said as he sat down, cleared his throat, and prepared to seriously talk business. He may be talking to Patrick, but this was his first time attempting to negotiate a contract, and Pete knew how picky Patrick was.

“Here’s the deal, Patrick, er, Mr. Stump. You’ve spent years looking for a label that will allow you the same freedoms that you have an independent artist, a label that won’t force you to sing or act a certain way because _they_ say so, a label that will accept Trowenhurst as a group, not Patrick Stump and those other guys, yes? Here at Decaydance, we do all of that. We don’t want to change the dynamic of a group that has such an established act and fan base. What we want to do is take what is already there and give it a better production quality and promote it, just as it is, to a much larger market.”

Patrick folded his hands, leaned forward, and quirked an eyebrow up. “Go on.”

Bob and Jonathan muttered something that sounded like “Why didn’t we promote him sooner?” Pete smirked at his bosses then continued.

“Here at Decaydance Records, we understand that a band is a unit, not just the singer or bass player or drummer or whatever. A band is not a band without all of its members and cannot function the same if one were taken out. Other labels have tried to tell you that you are more important than everyone else, but we won’t. We know everyone’s equally important, without them, the band doesn’t work.”

Patrick smirked up at Pete and sent “ _Cheater, cheater, Patrick eater_ ,” in a hummy, buzzy cloud to Pete’s head. Pete paused and smirked at him before continuing.

“So here’s what we have to offer Trowenhurst: each member has equal payouts until that person, or persons, choose to severe their contractual bonds to the label. The label will work with the entire band on sound, marketing, and branding: a unanimous group decision must be made for approval of anything. Or, the band has the right to elect one or two of its members to make those decisions. Each member… God, I’m tired oflawyer speak. Ok, here’s the deal… We’ll treat all,” Pete paused for a moment to count the number of band members in Trowenhurst on his fingers. “all six of you with the same amount of importance and respect when it comes to anything band related, unless and until their contractual obligations run out or are severed. Also, we know that you guys know what works for you; you’ve built up an amazing fan base by doing that. So we’re here to supply you with any and all writers, producers, mixers, and whatever else you may need that will fit your band and brand. How does that sound?”

“I have a few questions to ask before I answer that, if you don’t mind,” Patrick said, not giving away any trace of emotion.

“Sure. Fire away,” Pete said with confidence. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“This isn’t a licensing contract, is it?”

“Nope.”

“How long is the contract for?”

“Eighteen months with the option to renew 3 more times.”

“Albums required per term?”

“1”

“Who pays studio time?”

“The label is responsible for recording and production costs up front, including the cost of feeding and housing you guys. Trowenhurst would be responsible for paying back studio time.”

“Who owns the copyrights?”

“The company, with the option for Trowenhurst to purchase.”

“Travel?”

“Depends, usually either sponsors or the band. But a fund would be set up from sales that would go exclusively to travel expenses.”

“What percent royalties would we get, and when?”

“30% to be divided amongst you _after_ all fees have been paid.”

“You’re good. You sure you’re not a lawyer, Pete?”

“I know, and yes I’m sure. But my dad is, so there’s that,” Pete said with a smug grin.

“Alright, gentlemen. I’ve heard all I need at this point. I’d like to take this information back to my band and our lawyer so that we might discuss it together, if that’s alright with you.”

Bob and Jonathan started talking at the same time; Pete shushed them both. “Take all the time you need, Mr. Stump. You know where we are, and we look forward to hearing back from you. I’ll have a copy of the contract I was discussing with you printed up so that you can take it with you.”

Patrick stood up, followed by the other three. They all shook hands and walked towards the door. “May I escort you out, Mr. Stump?” Pete asked.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Pete opened the door and let Patrick out first. People from every visible area were gawking at Patrick. Pete escorted Patrick to the receptionist and ordered the printed copy. The receptionist ogled Patrick, his tongue hanging out ever so slightly, while the document printed. Pete scowled at him and snatched the document out of his hand when he offered it up.

On the way out, Pete spotted Hayley in a corner, who was watching the two of them and gave Pete a thumbs up. Pete sent one back and ushered Patrick through the crowd and out of the building. Once they were safely outside on the sidewalk, Patrick grabbed Pete’s arm and swung him around. “How did I not know about this?”

“Over the last few months I’ve been working on trying to find a way to keep information out of your, uh, line of vision for lack of a better term. About three weeks ago I finally figured it out. Awesome, huh?”

Patrick nodded before he leaned forward and kissed Pete, moaning the instant their lips made contact. He wrapped his arms around Pete and pulled him closer, “You’re actually here.”

Pete mumbled a yes and wrapped Patrick up in his arms. It felt so good to finally have Patrick with him.

“I’m no expert, but couldn’t this be considered a form of bribery?”

Pete and Patrick looked at the doorway; there stood Hayley, grinning at the two of them. Pete saw Hayley reacting to Patrick, but she was doing a good job of controlling her actions. Pete smiled and shrugged at her. “Maybe, but I won’t tell if you won’t, HayHay.”

“Wait, this is Miss Hayley Williams? She’s a lot cuter than you let on, Peter. Are you sure I don’t need to worry about you two working together?” Patrick said with a wink and a smile.

Hayley blushed and giggled like one of Patrick’s fangirls, but quickly caught herself and just smiled at them. “Uh, so, Pete, how long _have_ you known Patrick Stump?”

“Well, you see HayHay, I uh… DO you remember all those stories about that really hot professor I hooked up with at DePaul? Yea, well, that was Patrick.”

“Oh my God, I knew it! Pete, oh my God. Okay, we have to have dinner tonight, the three of us. Okay? It’s set. No ditching. We’ll meet up at our usual place, at the usual time. I’ll go inform Bob and Jonathan that you’re going to be out for the rest of the day and that they need to be prepared for, um, business expenses. So, have fun, and I’ll see you tonight.” Hayley waved goodbye to the two of them and trotted back inside.

“Well, she’s pretty awesome. I see why you two are friends,” Patrick said with a grin. Pete just smiled and leaned in to kiss Patrick again.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner had been wonderful. Hayley kept giving Pete this look, this “I knew you were keeping something big from me’ look. Pete and Patrick had been touching nonstop all through the night: something as little as their pinkies linked and as much as the two of them writhing and moaning as they came together (three different times since they’d gotten back to Pete’s apartment). Now it was past midnight, and the two of them were cuddled up together, naked and under a sheet on Pete’s bed. Patrick was curled into Pete, his head on Pete’s shoulder, making shapes on Pete’s chest with his finger. Pete had his arm wrapped around his blue-tinted lover, basking in the fact that Patrick really was here.

“So, um, I forgot to mention something earlier today,” Pete mumbled into Patrick’s hair before planting a kiss on his head.

“S’that?” Patrick asked, his mouth half squished against Pete’s skin.

“I forgot to tell you about the best part of the whole deal if you decide to sign with Decaydance.”

“Pete, this is not the time to be pitching anything to me unless it’s more sex. Okay? I just want to spend time with you before the band and I have to leave town again.”

Pete smiled. “But Patrick, that’s what I’m trying to get at; if you sign, not only do you get all the fancy stuff I mentioned earlier, but you get me too!”

Patrick stopped and stared up at Pete. “What?”

“You’d get me, exclusively. No one else would be working with you unless I said so, or we needed them to. I’d get to be everything Trowenhurst needs, from producer to tour manager, if you wanted. I get first dibs on you guys.”

Patrick propped himself up on an elbow and stared intently at Pete. “Don’t you fucking mess with me, Peter. Is this really true?”

Pete beamed at Patrick. “It’s all in the contract that I typed up for you guys.” Pete leaned up and gently kissed Patrick, who let some of the tension melt away. “I’d be totally yours to use however you need or wanted.”

Patrick wrapped his free arm around Pete’s neck and pulled him up for the most passionate, toe curling kiss Pete had ever had. It took his breath away and made his heart flutter.

“I can’t believe you’d do something like this for me. I mean, you said you’d… but I didn’t think…” Patrick’s skin started flashing back and forth.

“I know. But it looks like luck might finally be on our side this time,” Pete said with a smile; he couldn’t help but smile when he saw Patrick get so excited that he changed into his full half-breed self.

“Okay, I can’t promise you anything right now, but I will go back and talk this contract over with my band and our lawyer tomorrow. I will lay out the information, leaving you out of it, and see what they think. I’ll make sure to tell the lawyer not to mention the clause with you in it, as well. But Pete, I think they might actually go for it. It really is the best offer we’ve ever had.”

“I’m not expecting anything, Patrick. But I really hope we can all make this work.”

“Me too, Pete, me too,” Patrick said and morphed back into his normal, pale self. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Pattycakes. Now get some sleep; you’ve got a big day tomorrow with lots to figure out.”

Patrick laid back down on Pete, and Pete nuzzled into Patrick, closed his eyes, and sighed contentedly. He listened to the steady sounds of Patrick’s breathing and thought of how everything in his life was finally falling into place. He fell asleep to his imagination going wild with scenarios of what the future held. He couldn’t wait to see what was going to happen next.


	25. Chapter 25

**August 2, 2014**

Pete and Patrick were driving hand-in-hand around Chicago. It had been two years since that fateful meeting at Decaydance Records. Trowenhurst was dominating airwaves all over the world and had sold out stadiums in a matter of hours, sometimes minutes. Their debut album had stayed at #1 for 5 weeks; it had been certified Triple Platinum, and that was the last time they’d heard anything. They had 4 #1 singles, each staying in the top spot for at least 3 weeks; the most recent had been number one for 14 weeks. Three of their singles were in the Top 10; the other was in the Top 20.

Now, after a sold out world tour, a performance on the Grammy’s, two AMA’s, and a handful of People’s Choice awards, Trowenhurst was finally back in the United States and set to close Lollapalooza in less than 24 hours. But first, Pete had promised Patrick an epic evening out, something he would never forget. Pete even had a blindfold over Patrick’s eyes. “Don’t peek, Patrick. You’ll ruin the surprises.”

“Surprises? As in multiple? I don’t think I can deal with one, let alone more. Come on, just a little hint for your Pattycakes?” Patrick pouted at Pete.

“No, now stop it. I’ve been planning this for months and have gone to great lengths to arrange tonight. Do you know how fucking hard it is to plan an evening full of surprises around Chicago when you’re in Asia, Australia, and Europe? Especially when you live in a compact vehicle with the person you’re planning the surprises for? So no, I’m not going to spoil it now. If I can keep my mouth shut for several months, you can wait 15 more minutes,” Pete said as he parked the car and shut it off. “Stay put; I’ll be around in 30 seconds to help you out of the car. No peeking, Patrick. I mean it! You peek and… and… and… I dunno. I’ll find _some_ way to punish you.”

“Promise?”

“You… I… NO PEEKING!” Pete got out of the car, shut the door, then scrambled around to let Patrick out, giddy in his excitement over what he had planned. Pete could hardly contain himself. He’d never been more thankful for finding an off switch between his thoughts and Patrick’s Jedi shit. His plans for the next 24 hours wouldn’t be nearly as awesome if he couldn’t keep certain things secret.

Pete opened Patrick’s door, grabbed his hand, and helped him out of the car. Once the door was shut again and Patrick was steady on his feet, Pete pushed his back against the side of the car and kissed him. Patrick moaned and kissed back as he wrapped his arms around Pete’s neck.

“I love you,” Pete whispered into Patrick’s ear, his heart full to the brim and about to explode with all of the emotions he felt for the man in front of him. Pete grinned and nuzzled into Patrick’s neck.

“I love you too, Pete,” Patrick whispered back.

Pete stood up straight, let out a deep breath, grabbed Patrick’s hand and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

Pete took his time guiding Patrick, make sure he didn’t trip or fall. He stopped Patrick only when he got to a door. Pete grabbed the keys he’d been given and unlocked the door and led Patrick in, stopping to lock the door back up. Then Pete led Patrick through a maze of corridors, finally stopping to unlock another door and let Patrick through before locking it. He guided Patrick through the echoey room to a wood chair and helped him sit down. “Now stay put, and when I tell you, take off the blindfold, okay?”

Patrick nodded. “Alright, Pete.”

Patrick heard Pete giggle and then the sound of Pete’s feet moving away. Something about the situation seemed vaguely familiar. However, before he could pinpoint why, Pete yelled for Patrick to take off the blindfold. Patrick slipped it off and looked around; his jaw dropped. “Oh my God, Pete…”

“Surprise, Pattycakes! Happy Anniversary Month of the day we met!”

Patrick stared around at his old classroom in DePaul University. Pete was sitting in his old seat, one leg propped up on the desk. “I don’t believe this. How on Earth did you manage it? Classes haven’t even started yet.”

Pete grabbed a set of keys out of his pocket and jangled them at Patrick. “It’s amazing the weight the name Patrick Stump already has. People will jump at the chance to help the hottest professor-turned-rock star ever.” Pete flashed his too-wide grin at Patrick, and Patrick’s heart fluttered. It was a feeling that Patrick had finally gotten used to after almost five years of being around Pete. When it first happened in this very room, Patrick had initially thought he was about to combust and die; he’d never experienced anything like it before. But he was eventually able to pinpoint the cause of his affliction: a raven-haired, mocha-skinned Adonis. It was then, and only then, that Patrick had realized that some of the attention that had been locked on him was now on that man. Patrick had never lost attention from anyone unless he wanted to, usually not even then. He’d never even heard of any incubus or moruadh losing one person’s attention, let alone 20 or more people’s. Patrick knew that this attention getter wasn’t any kind of “mythical creature” either; Patrick would be able to sense it in him. Yet something was definitely special about the man.

Patrick stood up and made his way up to Pete. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Just wait; it gets even better,” Pete said giddily.

“I bet.” Patrick’s voice dropped, and he started walking preditorial circles around Pete, stopping behind him and slowly running an arm down his chest. Patrick squatted and nibbled on Pete’s ear. Pete moaned and let his head fall back onto Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick kissed along Pete’s neck before he said, “Pete, I’m famished.”

“Why do you think I locked the door, Professor Stump?”

\------------------------------------------------------------

They were back in the car driving, and Patrick was blindfolded again. Pete had his hand on Patrick’s thigh, and Patrick had his hand resting on Pete’s. It was an amazing feeling to be this comfortable with someone. Before Pete, the only person Patrick had ever been _that_ comfortable around was Ace. Ace had become a wonderful companion over the last 100+ years, even offering himself up to Patrick so he wouldn’t starve on more than one occasion. The biggest difference between Ace and Pete was that Ace had always been more like a brother, or a cousin, or… something. Ace was family. Patrick had always been grateful to have Ace by his side, but Ace had never made Patrick feel the way that Pete somehow did. Pete wasn’t a demon or faery folk, just human, a mortal, but to Patrick, Pete was pure magic.

“Where are we going now?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Seriously, Patrick, you’re as bad as a little kid.”

“As bad as you, you mean.”

Pete chuckled and squeezed Patrick’s thigh playfully. “Maybe.”

\------------------------------------------------------------

With the help ofkitchen staff, Pete had led the still blindfolded Patrick through the back route to the table they’d sat at the first time the two of them had been here. Pete had arranged to have the table mostly secluded with access to a bathroom. When Patrick was sat down, Pete kissed Patrick sweetly and pulled off the blindfold. Patrick opened his eyes and smiled at Pete. “Three Aces!”

“You knew?” Pete asked with a pout as he sat down on the other side.

“Only because of the smell, I promise. But our booth? Privacy? Our bathroom?” Patrick’s voice dropped into his seduction tone on the last word. “Pete, this is… this is amazing. I can’t believe you did this.”

Patrick had just finished his statement when a waiter sauntered in, wiggling his hips, and beaming at Patrick. He placed a couple pizzas, a bottle of champagne, and two glass champagne flutes on the table. Pete noticed all of the excessive attention that the waiter was giving to Patrick. He noticed the way he lightly brushed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder as he not-so-subtly offered up his “services” to Patrick. “All you have to do is ask me.” He noticed the extreme ass wiggling in Patrick’s direction. But Pete also noticed how Patrick didn’t seem to notice any of it; his eyes were glued on Pete. When the waiter _finally_ noticed it too, he left in a huff.

“Pete…” Patrick placed his hand over Pete’s and got quiet. He stared at Pete, his Pete. Patrick was usually so good at hiding his emotions, but the tears welling up in his eyes threatened to give away everything he felt inside. It’s not like Pete hadn’t seen it all before; Patrick had let Pete see more of himself than he’d ever let anyone in his life see, even Ace. Patrick tried his best to be open with Pete, to have no secrets from him. But that didn’t mean that he had to be that open with Pete in public. Patrick didn’t like letting the world see how vulnerable he could be. If he could have a poker face on MTV when he was beaming with pride on the inside, then he could do it now, dammit. But Pete hadn’t been at MTV with Trowenhurst. Pete’s presence was able to open Patrick up any place, anytime.

“Even though you knew part of it, surprise!” Pete yelled under his breath.  “It’s our restaurant with our meal, and some champagne to help us celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?”

Pete rolled his eyes. “Have you already forgotten? We met five years ago this month. Since we’ll be elsewhere on the actual day we met, I figured celebrating the month would be acceptable. Now eat up,” Pete said as he popped the cork on the champagne and poured some in each glass. Pete picked up a now full glass and held it up in the air. “To us,” he said.

Patrick picked up his glass and clinked it against Pete’s. “To us,” he repeated. The two took sips and put their glasses down. Pete got up and slid in beside Patrick, pulled his phone out, leaned in close to Patrick and took a photo. Patrick kissed Pete’s cheek as Pete took another picture. Pete turned his head and kissed Patrick on the lips, taking one last photo. As Pete went to slide back out, Patrick grabbed his arm and shook his head. “Stay,” Patrick said. “Please?”

Pete nodded and cuddled up to Patrick before grabbing a slice of pizza. “There’s one more surprise planned tonight,” Pete said before taking a bite. “Can’t wait to see your reaction.”

Patrick laughed around a slice of pizza. “Okay, now I’m scared. Check please; we can just go home,” he said with a wink. Pete nudged he shoulder against Patrick’s. “You totally should be.”

\------------------------------------------------------------

Pete had decided to not blindfold Patrick for the last surprise; there were too many things that could happen that could injure Patrick. So there they were, parked behind Double Door, Pete beaming at Patrick. “We’re here.”

Patrick smiled back. “What are we doing here?”

“Can’t tell you; that’s the surprise. But let’s just say, today is all about reliving some old memories.”

“Oh,” Patrick said before he unbuckled. “Then, uh,” Patrick licked his lips. “Let me add one more,” he said before unbuttoning Pete’s pants and pushing them down.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Inside, Pete had left Patrick out front with Ace. Pete had excused himself to go use the restroom. But now Patrick was trying to figure out exactly what Pete was really doing, it doesn’t take 20 minutes to go to the bathroom. Now Frank Iero was on the stage trying to announce the night’s band.

“So like I said, guys, don’t swarm around him. Most of you saw him _before_ he was on VH1 and MTV. Plus, Ace is watching him; you don’t wanna mess with Ace. Okay? Okay. So besides Patrick, there’s another surprise for everyone tonight. In a one-night only reunion – Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome back to the stage: Arma Angelus!”

The crowd went nuts; Patrick stood with his mouth open and then looked up at Ace, who was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “You knew!”

Ace nodded. “I did indeed, Mister Patrick. I’d do almost anything to help that boy, especially if it’s something to do with you. Now enjoy the show. Mister Pete has done a lot to be able to do this tonight.”

Pete appeared on stage, grinning and waving at the crowd. “Hey. What’s up fuckers? I’m Pete Wentz, and we ware Arma Angelus. Let’s get this fucking show started!

\------------------------------------------------------------

-An hour in and it was insanity inside Double Door; insanity in the best kind of way. Pete was feeding off the crowd, and the crowd couldn’t get enough of Pete. Now, Pete was shirtless, sweaty, and taking a few minutes to talk to the audience.

“So, like I said before: Thanks for being awesome people and not fawning over Patrick. And thanks for being so accommodating to Arma tonight; it means a lot to me. Now, I have one more favor to ask of you guys. This next song is not what Arma usually does, but I need it to be performed tonight. So I’m gonna bring my buddy, Brendon, up so someone who can actually sing can perform it properly.

Brendon strutted on stage and walked up to Pete. “Heya, Asshat. It’s time to impress Patrick already?”

The crowd made catcalls in response.

“Shut up and sing the fucking song, Urie,” Pete said before walking to the side of the stage between Joe Trohman and his guitar, and Andy Hurley behind the drums. Chris Gutierrez smiled at them from the other side of the stage right before Brendon started singing.

I don’t know where you’re going  
But do you got room for one more troubled soul

The end of the show went off with a bang, literally. Pete had managed to convince Double Door to allow a few little pyrotechnics. When the smoke was engulfing the room, Pete pulled Patrick up on stage, wrapped him in his arms, and kissed him. “Surprise,” he whispered.

“Mother fucker,” Patrick whispered back before kissing Pete again. Then came the hoots and hollers. The smoke had cleared, and the two men were the only ones on stage. Pete flipped the audience off as he said, “Y’all are just jealous,” into the microphone.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Pete and Patrick were at their hotel for the night. Patrick and the rest of Trowenhurst had a huge day at Lolla starting in the morning, so they couldn’t stay and hang out very long. Although, most of Patrick’s band had been at Double Door and were staying, but they didn’t really have to sing. So now, Patrick was curled around Pete, snug in his arms, enjoying their alone time together. Oh, that reminded him. “That was a beautiful song, Pete. Thank you. I just wish I could’ve been the one to sing your words.”

“Well, maybe there’s some alternate universe where you do. Maybe there’s one where I write the songs that you sing. But, here in this universe, I’m perfectly happy being alone together with you; writing words to you, my beautiful, blue Patrick.”

Patrick smiled and cuddled in closer. Never in his 149 years had he ever imagined being this happy with someone, this comfortable, this open. He’d figured that even if he’d found someone he loved that they’d never love him back. Patrick had had a taste of that, which made this moment so much sweeter, lying in bed with his mortal, the one he’d claimed as only his.

 _Mortal_ , Patrick thought. _I’ll have to talk to Dad about that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from 'Alone Together' by Fall Out Boy
> 
> \-----------------------------------------
> 
> I decided to give my loyal readers an Easter present by posting this chapter a day early. So I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave any feedback.


	26. Chapter 26

Trowenhurst had spent a good chunk of the day signing autographs, giving interviews, and doing Q&A’s at the appropriate booths. When they at last had some free time, they were running around separately, watching some of the other bands. Pete and Patrick had spent most of the day hand-in-hand, enjoying their time together without being hounded by swarms of people. Now, it was almost time for Trowenhurst to close Lollapalooza. Pete was running around the Red Bull Sound Select backstage making sure that everyone was good to go. He had the techs tuning everything and lining up a few replacement instruments. He was yelling at stagehands, telling them that things weren’t where they were supposed to be. He was threating Jack with no Taco Bell for a month if he ate one more God damned taco before the show! Everything finally seemed to be ready to go, all except his nerves. Pete had never been more nervous in his whole fucking life. He was taking deep breaths and attempting to calm his shaking hands.

“It’s time,” someone told Pete. Pete quickly glanced around to make sure the band members were all in sight, and thank you God, they all were for once. Being the tour manager for Trowenhurst was no easy job, but he wouldn’t give it up for the world. Not only did he get to travel with Patrick, but he’d also become close friends with all the rest of the band too. In addition, Ace, well, Ace really was his brother now. They’d bonded quickly, and now Ace was his favorite prank target and coconspirator.

Patrick was towards the back. He looked mouthwateringly delicious, almost exactly like the first time Pete had seen him on stage: black and white converse sneakers, extra-tight, black leather pants that hung low on his hips; a black mesh shirt over a low, V-neck tank top that showed off a little tuft of chest hair, a thin black choker, black eyeliner, a silver lip ring on the right side of his lower lip, and his blonde hair was spiked up in the middle and had black and red streaks in it. Although, Pete wasn’t sure if the look on Patrick’s face was his totally pumped face, or his ‘I’m gonna vomit’ face. Either way, Patrick had a couple minutes to go; Pete had the pleasure of introducing Trowenhurst to the crowd. Grant Park was packed with people ready to see the band live for the first time in quite a while. Touring around the world with a #1 album has a way of keeping you away from home.

Pete looked at the band once more; they all nodded and gave him a thumbs up. He nodded back and stepped out on stage to the sound of thunderous applause and cheering. He grinned and waved at the crowd all the way to microphone. “Hello, Lollapalooza!” He waited a minute to let the cheers die down.

Pete couldn’t stand still; his nerves were eating at him. He grabbed the microphone and started pacing. “God, it’s so good to finally be back in Chicago. You guys are in for quite an evening; my boys have one hell of a hometown set planned for you. Warm ups have been impeccable, and Patrick’s voice has never sounded better.”

Pete smiled quietly as the people cheered more. “Now, I know you guys are exhausted. You’ve been here for three fucking days, and now it’s almost time to finally go home, shower, fuck, shower again and then pass out.”

The crowd laughed and cheered.

“But before you do all that, I promise you, this will be worth it, okay? So make sure to have those phones and cameras ready to take videos and pictures. Instagram and YouTube are waiting with bated breath for the images from tonight. So ladies and gentlemen, rockers and rollers, dudes and dudettes, put your hands together for the hometown return of Trowenhurst!”

The lights went down, and the screams echoed through the darkness. Lights from the city and other stages were sprinkled across the black like tiny stars in the night. Pete ran off stage to Patrick, kissed him quick, and whispered, “Kill it, Baby,” as he handed the mic over.

The two shared a long gaze while the rest of Trowenhurst ran out on stage and started playing Pete’s favorite intro in the history of forever. Patrick held the microphone to his lips and started singing.

It’s hot as hell out here  
and everybody wants to lose control

Patrick turned, walked out center stage, and put the mic back in its stand.

The music’s turned up loud  
The lights, we’ve got them low

Pete watched from the sides, watched as stage-Patrick slowly took over. The electric current shifted as he emerged until finally…

Whoa-oh-oh-oh

The lights along the edge of the stage came up as well as the other lights, highlighting Patrick, and there he was: Sex-God Stage Patrick looking out into the audience with a come-hither stare. Small circles in the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd disappeared as people fainted. Patrick’s Sex-Godliness was in full force like nothing most people had ever felt. It was strong enough that even though Patrick had shut off all of Pete’s “control switches”, Pete’s knees were still shaking from the intensity of it. Pete wasn’t sure if he could make it an hour in this, he usually left the general area unless Patrick needed and overly willing plaything or a meal on stage. But dammit, Pete needed to stay; he had one more thing he had to do before the last song.

\------------------------------------------------------------

More and more people were coming to Trowenhurst’s stage as the show progressed. Patrick was in rare form, teasing and playing with the audience. He was gyrating everywhere, and the level of sexual tension was higher than the clouds. Pete was listening in on some of security’s conversations; over a dozen couples had been escorted out of Grant Park for having sex, and a dozen more people were escorted out for indecent exposure (masturbating in public) since Trowenhurst had hit the stage.. One poor sap was even arrested for propositioning a police officer. So when it came time to switch instruments and do a quick outfit change, Pete pulled Patrick aside, explained what was happening, and asked him to dial in back a notch. Patrick laughed and apologized; he hadn’t meant to, he was just so excited and all that.

Patrick was changing when he turned to Pete, biting his bottom lip, and stalked toward him. Pete knew that look. Pete turned and ran towards the only place he knew that had a door; Patrick followed. They were under the stage, and as soon as the door was shut, Patrick had Pete pressed up against a wall and was down on his knees. “Please,” Patrick whispered, more as a formality than actually asking permission. He already had Pete’s pants undone and pushed down past his knees. Pete steadied himself against the wall right before Patrick’s mouth was around him. Pete’s eyes rolled back and monosyllabic noises were coming out of his mouth. All the energy and sexual energy that Patrick had been releasing on stage was now being focused on getting Pete off as quickly as possible. Patrick’s mouth was hot, wet, and sloppy, and, oh fuck, Pete was in heaven. It didn’t take long for Pete to finish, but it was so good that Pete was pretty sure that everyone above them could hear his cries of ecstasy.

Pete collapsed on the floor, Patrick pulling Pete’s pants up as he fell. Patrick licked his lips and kissed Pete quickly, humming happily. “Thank you. You’re as delicious as ever. Now, tell your knees not to take too long to recuperate. We need you up there.” With that, Patrick ran out. Pete sat there and listened to the next two songs while his muscles did their best to solidify. “Great,” he mumbled. “Just what I need; more things acting up before…” Pete put a hand to his back pocket. “Good, still there.”

Pete finally made it back up. People were snickering and giving him sideways glances, careful not to make any actual eye contact. Yup, they’d definitely heard. Pete flipped them all off and focused on doing his job.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Three songs before the finale, Pete started pacing. His job backstage was basically done. Now he had to worry about the other part. He needed to make sure that all of the instructions he’d given were going to be followed. Everything had to be perfect; there could be no mistakes. Otherwise, there was going to be a _LOT_ of explaining to do.

Pete ran out to the AV and light booth. He made sure they had his instructions. He double checked that the cues were right. He quizzed the dudes over the information without them being able to see the sheet. Everything was good to go as long as they got it all right. They asked Pete why the specificities, but he told them to mind their own fucking business. They backed off, but told Pete that they knew he was nervous but he needed to relax a little. He flipped them off as he headed out to check on the next necessity.

Pete’s next stop was a little more difficult to stop and speak to without looking suspicious, but Pete finally found Adam Elmakias running around and brought him backstage under the guise that he was going to be taking a few photos of Trowenhurt from the stage, which he totally was going to do. However, Pete ran the plan by him the entire way, making sure that Adam hadn’t forgotten a single detail. Once Pete was satisfied with Adam’s quick explanation of what he was supposed to do and when, Pete backed off and went to find a place to calm any nerves that could be calmed. He made sure that he could hear what was going on onstage and off. He still had his headset so people could talk to him if they needed to, but almost everyone was aware of Pete’s plan for this evening and wanted to give him the last five minutes to himself to prepare.

Pete was sitting in a corner and had finally stopped shaking as the band played the last minute of ‘Gorgeous Nightmare’; it was absolutely perfect. Pete stood up and made his way to the side of the stage. Everyone was smiling at him or giving him a thumbs up. AV and Lights confirmed that they were ready through the headset. Adam raced past everyone to get into position out in the front of the crowd. The rest of Trowenhurst was grinning over at Pete while Patrick sang to the crowd, oblivious to all of it. A few people in the crowd noticed the band staring at the side of the stage and looked to see what was going on. More and more people looked over while Patrick finished the song with a growl and a swivel of his hips. The audience clapped and screamed their approval, all while still looking over in Pete’s direction. So far everything was going exactly as Pete had planned.

When Patrick tried talking to the people, he finally caught on. “What’s everyone staring at?” Patrick looked over at Pete and grinned. “Seriously? Someone tell me. All I see is Pete.” The whole crowd shrugged at him. “Then why are you guys watching the corner so intently?” The crowd shouted random answers at Patrick, but they all gave him the idea that it was the band’s fault; they were staring first. Patrick turned around to see that the band was indeed staring at a now grinning Pete. Patrick grabbed the mic and walked over to where Pete was. “What’s up, Pete?”

Pete glanced at the front of the crowd, spotted Adam in place, took a deep breath, then stepped out on stage. He kissed Patrick on the lips and grabbed one of his hands. “I love you, is all.” Pete took off his headset and handed back to someone, who then gave him an already turned on microphone of his own. Then, Pete was leading Patrick back out to the middle of the stage, squeezing his hand and staring at him the whole way out. Pete turned Patrick around and kissed him again.

“Pete, what’s really going on?”

Two stools were brought out by two different stagehands; one was placed behind Pete, and one behind Patrick. Pete helped Patrick sit down, and then sat himself down. He smiled at Patrick, hoping that all the love he felt for him radiated out of it. Pete cleared his throat and started talking again, into the microphone so everyone could hear.

“You and I have had one fucked up, bumpy road, haven’t we. Like, I dunno, we’ve been through so much to get here. But we’re stronger because of it, right? We know that it’s good because we’ve been through the worst shit, most of it, well; probably all of it has been my fault. But you, you always get it through. You understand, and therefore, put up with all of my stupid, crazy shit. When it’s bad for me, you are by my side holding me up. When it’s the worst for me, you’re the one holding my hands, pulling my dangling ass up off the ledge.”

Pete paused for a moment to swallow the knot in his throat. He watched Patrick’s eyes get wider, so Pete needed to make sure that he didn’t need to flash the AV and Light guys the emergency signal. Patrick didn’t do anything except and stare at Pete, so Pete continued while the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins. Pete grabbed the microphone from Patrick’s hand and put it back in the stand. Then he grabbed one of Patrick’s hands with his free one. “You make me happy. You help me sleep. You made the nightmares go away and have replaced them with…”

Pete paused before he could finish that statement. Patrick was already blushing, but not blue. This was why he’d written a fucking script to stick to. This is why he shouldn’t adlib things. The audience was still snickering, but Pete needed to do this before he chickened out.

“Whatever, you’ve brought the good stuff into my life. Nothing ever worked out for me until the day I walked into your classroom. My life is better with, and because of, you. And if I make you feel even one millionth of a percent of how you make me feel, then I will die knowing that I did right by you.”

Tears were collecting in the corner of Patrick’s eyes, Pete’s too. Pete stood up, leaned over, and kissed Patrick. “I could go on forever about how you make me feel and how you’ve made me a better man and all that other stuff. But we don’t have time for that here on Lolla. But I want to be able to spend the rest of my life telling you. And _that_ , Patrick, is what this is all about; I wanna know…”

Gasps and cheers started sounding from the audience. Patrick’s eyes enlarged to their fullest as he realized what was about to happen. Pete tossed the mic to a man down by Adam that Pete had arranged to have there specifically for the mic. The dude scrambled away and Adam took a step closer to the stage and took some initial shots. Pete grabbed the box out of his back left pocket that had been burning a hole in it for two and a half weeks. He pulled it out, got down on one knee, opened the box, and presented the small, diamond encrusted, silver band to Patrick. The lights went out for a brief moment. When they came back on, they illuminated the whole stage in blue. It was just in time too; Patrick’s skin flickered between pale and blue, scales appeared a few times.

Patrick stared between the ring in the box and the man on his knee who was holding it. The ring was perfect, something he’d seen in his dreams for years, way before Pete ever walked into his life. The ring had been an ideal he’d clung to. So when he’d given up on finding someone who could be his forever, the ring had left his mind as well. But now, here was the gorgeous ring from his dreams being held by the most gorgeous, life-altering man in the world. Patrick couldn’t stop the tears of joy that were falling down his face, or his morphing. Too many emotions were stirring inside of him to be able to have control over anything. Most importantly, Pete was on one knee offering a ring and forever.

“Patrick? Patrick, baby, come back to me for just a minute. I’m not done yet.” Pete’s words finally broke through to Patrick, and he focused back on Pete.

“Hi, there. Welcome back.”

Patrick smiled wide; the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Hey, yourself.”

“Patrick, my love, would you do me the most completely rad honor of my life and agree to marry me?”

Patrick let out a high-pitched squeal and dropped down onto his knees. He tried to shout “yes” at Pete, but Patrick’s throat was dry, and he was all choked up. So he settled on staring into Pete’s eyes and nodding fervently.

Pete perked up and whispered, “Really?”

Patrick nodded again, and the biggest grin spread across Pete’s face. His hands fumbled horribly while trying to get the ring out of the box. The ring that as soon as Pete had seen, he’d known that it needed to be put on Patrick’s finger, one way or another. That ring belonged to Patrick. Pete dropped the box twice before he got the ring out. He slid it onto Patrick’s left ring finger, then cupped his face and kissed his Patrick; _his_ Patrick. Now, no one could argue with that; Patrick was his, and would be forever. The whole of Lollapalooza cheered and screamed congratulations at the two men on the stage.

 Adam took a few last shots. Everything had gone exactly as Pete had planned and hope. And now his insides felt like they were going to explode, and his body would combust into a pile of confetti hearts and glitter.

They finally pulled out of the kiss and grinned stupidly at each other for a minute. Pete finally broke the trance they were under. “I gotta let you guys finish this set. So, uh, go take a minute back there with the band to reset while I reintroduce you for the last song. Then kill it, show these people the best fucking close to Lolla ever.”

Patrick nodded and grabbed the mic he’d dropped. Pete stood up and helped Patrick to his feet. Patrick put the mic back in the stand, and Pete kissed Patrick once more before he went back with his band. Pete turned to the crowd and shouted, “He said yes!” at them, just in case someone hadn’t figured that out yet. The crowd roared with cheers once again. “I hope at _least_ one of you captured a decent video of that. If you do, then talk to me after the show. But before that can happen, we’ve gotta finish the show. So without any further interruptions, my Patrick and his band are going to close out Lolla. So get those cameras ready to record, ‘cause this is going to be epic! So here they are, with a new song off of their forthcoming 2 nd album, Trowenhurst!” The lights died again, leaving the stage pitch black. There were no lights save for a few tiny red dots in the crowd. There was no way for Pete to safely get off stage, so he stayed where he was but turned around so he could watch Patrick. Pete would get off stage as soon as it was safe and not a distraction.

Pete had loved the melody of this song from the moment Patrick had played it on his laptop for him while they were somewhere in Europe. The melody was sexy; the words were even sexier and oh, so Patrick. No song had ever fit a person better, and now, Patrick was about to sing it live for the first time to an already sexually charged horde. The atmosphere was already changing before the first note had been played. It was intense and happening insanely fast, like a tornado touching down, and just like a tornado, Pete didn’t know what to expect. This was new territory for everyone.

Pete finally felt the vibrations of the steady drum beat; then the guitar joined in. Dim lights across the edge of the stage quickly flickered on one at a time. The bass joined in, and a misty, chartreuse light enveloped the stage. Blue, red, and purple, and green lasers lights started dancing around the stage and out across the audience. A spotlight finally illuminated Patrick. Patrick opened his eyes and stared out at the audience through hooded eyes that beckoned everyone to come to bed with him; lust and sex pierced through every breathing creature there. It was a look that could make people fight for the chance to fuck Patrick right then and there. It had Pete ready to drop to his knees and crawl over to Patrick and… Pete let out a soft moan and shook the thoughts from his head before scrambling offstage. He had to concentrate right now and make sure everything went off without a hitch. He would normally gauge the audience’s reaction to new material, but this particular instance wasn’t going to be the best time to judge potential future reactions.

You don’t know that I know  
you watch me every night

Patrick put on foot in front of the other, starting a slow, sultry, stalk towards the front of the stage.

And I just can’t resist the urge  
to stand here in the light  
Your greedy eyes upon me

Patrick traced his fingers across his chest and abs, lowering them little by little until they were down below his belly button and ghosting over the bulge in his tight, shows everything, pants that Pete loved so very much.

And then I come undone

Patrick bit his bottom lip and squeezed at his bulge. He threw his head back, sighing ever so slightly, and then looked back out at the audience, sex in his eyes.

And I could close the curtain

Patrick stopped at the edge of the stage and placed the mic in its stand.

But this is too much fun

Patrick stretched his arms out to his sides; wind came up from the vents, blowing Patrick’s clothes up, exposing a strip of Patrick’s perfectly porcelain skin. The lights on the edge of the stage shot straight up creating a wall of yellow light, temporarily obstructing the crowd’s view. Patrick took the opportunity to steal a glance of Pete. Patrick quirked his lip up and licked his lips at Pete.

I get off on you

A fountain of sparks erupted on each side of the stage. The wall of lights came down right as Patrick looked back out at the audience.

Getting off on me

Patrick grabbed the mic with one hand and the stand with the other, stroking it just enough that only the very observant would notice.

I’ll give you what you want  
But nothing is for free

Patrick took the mic out if its stand and skipped to the side of the stage that Pete wasn’t on.

It’s a give and take  
kind of love we make

Patrick circled his hips in deliciously salacious circles; Pete’s mouth was watering. Patrick turned on his heel and stared out at the audience.

When your line is crossed

Patrick traced a line across the top of his low-sitting pants that showed off the top of his v-lines, then he let his hand lower and ghost over himself.

I get off  
I get off

A sexy little simper played across Patrick’s lips as he moved towards the other side of the stage. He put a finger to his lips and the audience went silent. Patrick put the tip of his finger in his mouth and nibbled it.

There’s so much left unspoken  
between the two of us

Patrick stopped center stage and glanced at the audience, quirking his lip up once again.

It’s so much more exciting

Patrick ran his hand along his body again then turned to face the crowd.

To look when you can’t touch

Patrick ran his hand along the upper half of his body and made an audible gasp into the microphone; half of the front row fainted. Pete had to brace himself against a wall to keep from collapsing. Patrick was hot; Patrick was on fire tonight, and no one was immune, no one.

You could say I’m different  
and maybe I’m a freak

Patrick turned around and wiggled his ass at the audience and then turned back around.

But I know how to twist ya

Patrick twirled his finger in the air.

To bring ya to your knees

Patrick dropped down to his knees and let his mouth hang slack. He looked like he was in the middle of getting fucked.

I get off on you  
getting off on me  
I’ll give you what you want

Patrick ran his hand over the, now, very apparent, bulge in his pants. Then held his hand up and ticked one finger from side-to-side.

But nothing is for free

Patrick wiggled his hips and thrust them back and forth.

It’s a give and take  
kind of love we make  
When your line is crossed  
I get off.

Yea I get off

The small interlude started; Patrick was bouncing on his knees, wiggling his hips indecently, and took the whole ‘looks mid-fuck’ aspect to the next level. Pete heard the mass quantities of ‘Holy-shit’s and ‘that hasn’t happened since I was 14’s and chuckled.

Sharp guitar notes and drum beats played; Patrick leaned back, his heels in his ass, and bucked his hips up. Pete was mesmerized, the muscles that took…

What you don’t know

More sharp, precise notes, more bucking.

What you can’t see

Patrick let the back of his head rest on the stage and bucked up three more times with the guitar, breathing heavy into the microphone.

 Is what I do for you

Patrick ran his hand down his body, and as he did so, he arched his back up off the ground and sat up, swaying his hips to the music, but keeping his neck craned back.

I do for me

Patrick thrust his body forward onto all fours, well, three. He lowered his back, raised his ass a bit, bit his lip and crawled over to Pete. He looked like a sleek, sexy cheetah on the prowl.

I get off on you  
getting off on me  
I’ll give you what you want

Patrick stopped and sat up on his knees. Patrick grabbed Pete’s hand and pulled him out onto stage.

Yeah

Patrick’s jaw went slack; his eyes rolled back; he grabbed Pete’s hand and pulled himself up onto his feet.

I get off on you  
getting off on me  
I’ll give you what you want  
but nothing is for free

Patrick swirled under Pete’s arm and backed up against him, grinding like the needy little orgasm-eater he was.

It’s a give and take

Patrick thrust back against Pete and leaned his head back onto Pete’s shoulder, touching his finger to Pete’s forehead.

Kind of love we make

Pete could hear it now, all of Patrick’s pleadings: Patrick wanted to get out of here and go home. He was starving and wanted to help Pete with his still growing problem that was pressing into Patrick’s hip. Patrick ran his hand over Pete’s erection and squeezed before taking off to the middle of the stage again.

When your line is crossed

“You’re not going to be able to move for a week after I’m done with you tonight.” Pete thought to Patrick. Patrick’s lip quirked up.

I get off

Yeah, I get off

“I look forward to it.” Patrick sent in a hummy, buzzy zap to Pete’s brain.                   

Yeaaaah, I get off

Patrick finished with his best Freddie Mercury imitation; one arm up in the air, head down, eyes closed, face contorted into freshly orgasmed aftermath. Confetti canons shot out across the audience. The audience seemed to be in a hyper-sexualized coma. They were aware that the show was over: they clapped; they cheered; they were screaming their heads off. However, there was also groping, making out, and grinding against one another. Patrick ran back and jumped into Pete’s arms. “We did it!”

“And you just made at least half of Chicago hornier than they’ve ever been in their lives.”

“So,” Patrick said with a shrug and a kiss to Pete’s neck. “Everyone gets laid tonight; good for them.” Patrick pressed his lips to Pete’s, nudging Pete’s lips open with his tongue. Pete opened and invited Patrick in, massaging Patrick’s tongue with his. It was slow, delicious, and all Patrick. Patrick was still here; Patrick had said yes; Patrick was his, and would be his forever. No more secrets; no more hiding; no more running. They’d been through it all, through the absolute worst, but in the end, they were still together, ready to take on the world and conquer it. Pete knew that as long as he had Patrick by his side, then that’s exactly what they’d do.

 

~~The End.~~

The Beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics in this chapter are from "I Get Off" by Halestorm. I do not own the song. Copyrights to their proper owners. 
> 
> If you have never heard this song, I highly suggest you go listen to it, and then maybe read the performance again. It'll make a bit more sense. I love Halestorm, and this song was just so perfect I couldn't NOT use it.
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ggoswuAS5Gk
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> I wanted to say thanks to everyone who has read and commented on this story. I'm sad to see this one come to an end, but on to other things I guess. There will be at least one more story in this series. I couldn't just end it like this; Pete and Patrick have at least one more part of this that the world needs to know.
> 
> Anyway, I appreciate all the love that you guys have shown for Hot For Teacher. Thanks so much for reading. You guys are awesome. XOXO


End file.
